Ummmbelievable...

In the words of Frank Barone, "Holy Crap!" And I don't mean that in a good way. The 'rents and I shlepped through rush hour traffic to get here in time for my 8am admission. Then we sat around for 2+ hours waiting for a bed to become available. In the meantime, the pain in my neck (and I don't mean that in a good way, either) was increasing, exponentially.

Eventually, we were told that a bed will not be available, and I will be sent home, to wait again until next Tuesday. Except, I explained, that we have to determine the reason for the pain TODAY. Non-negotiable. We shlepped down to x-ray, then we shlepped over to the cafeteria, and finally back up to the BMT unit to wait for the results of the x-ray. In all the to-ing and fro-ing, we are toting a suitcase the size of a small ocean liner, Mom's purse, which is slightly smaller and full of bricks, Mom's tote bag and my totebag which has my 200lb dinosaur of a laptop.

I will bet you cash money that the @#!! port has sprung loose and is stabbing me in some exquisitely sensitive gland, making every breath, swallow, cough or sneeze excruciatingly painful. And I'll bet you cash money that before the day is out, this port will be out as well, and they will have to put in another @#!! port because I will be unconscious, and unable to stop them.

And my reasons for sharing this with you, my Loyal Legions, are twofold: First, you WANTED the gory details. And second, I would like some validation: my anxiety about the port was not unfounded; in fact, it was spot-on. Can I get an amen? (Okay, you can wait until I actually have the results.)

UPDATE: Waiting to find out if I can get an ultrasound today as the x-ray did not show any problem with the port. Waiting. Waiting Waiting Waiting.