Hmph.

I left work yesterday in the early afternoon. I was tired and worn out and tired. I tried to cancel my appointment in chemotherapy for a blood draw -- the normal lab-types can't access my port -- but the chemo nurse on the phone harangued me into coming in. She really did. All I wanted was to sleep.

When she saw me she said that I didn't look myself. She took my vitals, asked a few questions, and couldn't successfully access my port for the draw. It was very frustrating. Why did I have surgery to have a permanent port installed in my body, effectively turning me into some sort of Borg, if I'm still going to wind up teary eyed and desperate while some thoroughly-rattled nurse tries to find a vein?

So, over an hour and I don't know how many pricks later, I limped my way home.

I went to bed at 7:30 PM, and instantly fell asleep. Now I'm just up, twelve hours later, and I'm getting ready to go back for more chemo and fun.

The nurse reminded me that the drug I'm taking is one of the best tolerated. Yeah, okay. I understand that it could be worse. Being really tired, having my hair fall out in small clumps, and having a perpetually bloody nose... these things are small potatoes in the range of possible chemotherapy side effects. Is this another one of those blessings I'm supposed to count?

It's too goddamn early to be having such a bad fucking day.