All I Want

For the past week, I’ve been saying all I want is to have cancer, receive my chemo and be done with it. I don’t want an infected port, I don’t want my white blood cell count to be low, I don’t want to be a burden to people, just give it to me and let me fight it. But from what I’ve been told all the extras are part of having cancer and I’m just going to have to deal with it.

I was supposed to have surgery yesterday to remove my infected port. They were going to remove it, place a pick line in my arm, and then the following week, remove the pick line and put another port back in my chest. The surgeon who was going to remove it is one of the most well known performers for the opera company that I am employed by. When I found out he was the one who was going to do it, I called my mom and said, “Guess what, The Mikado is operating on me tomorrow!” It was very odd sitting on the examination table not talking about opera, but instead talking about if he was going to have to cut me open or not.

Since I was a new patient, I had to fill out the standard health history form. For the first time in my life I had to check yes to the “Have you had or do you have cancer” box. It was a very odd feeling checking that box, almost like I had to confess, no jokes about it, just the facts ma’am.

Turns out The Mikado (AKA Dr. Miller) said it didn’t appear my port was infected, so he didn’t feel the need to take it out. Great news! Tomorrow when I have chemo, they are going to do a culture, just to be on the safe side. But that’s tomorrow. Today I’m just a woman with cancer receiving chemo to fight it.