Wednesday was port placement day for B's upcoming chemo.
It also snowed that morning and the previous night.
Which meant I was up at oh, 4:45 AM shoveling our driveway before scooting into town for our scheduled 6 AM time.
Not that everyone else was ready for us.
Or that my body was really ready for that additional midweek activity.
But it was what it was.
At least for the deductible they're bound to bill us?
They'll let B order breakfast.
I had to pay for mine. It was nasty. And rushed.
No sooner than I sat down with it, they paged me back for a 'consultation.'
Customary, I s'pose. Ceremonial? They placed a port. It took 25 minutes. Nothing went wrong.
Functionally wrong, anyway. B was NOT a happy camper.
She'd been told to 'take the day off' from work cuz the site would be 'tender.'
The manufacturer's literature for the port itself? Said you'll feel better in oh, maybe 4, 5 days.
Needless to say, we NOW know who was right.