Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Effing ouch!

Today, with my numbing cream in tow, I went to chemo with the precipice that nobody would be touching the port.

When I went to head back to the lounge, I noticed my young nurse J wasn’t there but another young woman was. Eyeing Trudy of Notre Dame from my corner chair staring at me, I quickly murmured to the newby. Hearing my gentle screams, nurse Ali came to my side. Moments after that, she was now sitting by next to me with her cart and gloves asking, “do you have a port?” (Which is similar to asking a single girl at a bar, “so… why are you still not taken?”)

Telling her it was new and IMO still untouchable, she looked at it and told me otherwise. I’m not sure why, but I allowed her to slide my v-neck over to see my junk.

Somehow, with more numbing spray and an unintentional rigor mortis- freeze tag position, she docked her needle in my port.

Now, what’s bullshit was I saw every other patient getting their treatment through their veins.

All that aside, when Trudy and Betty noticed I was not extending my arms receiving treatment, I got the… “Congratulations! You’re going to love it and best of all, your nurses will too!”

As if I didn’t know that’s what she wanted (for her ease really) all along!

Needless to say, I prefer the prick of the veins in my arm but since the needle was tiny… I didn’t bleed too much, with this either.