I wash myself with a rag on a stick

I think this blog has been too serious lately, so I thought maybe everyone might enjoy some of the humor of the current situation.

So, I knew that having a pic line in as opposed to a port-a-catheter would be an interesting experience, but a brief one. Turns out, after some discussion with the doctors, it will not be such a brief experience. I will be keeping the pic line throughout my current treatment and not getting a port. Now, I'll have to take a picture and post it so that people unfamiliar with it can grasp the full scope of the issue. A pic line goes into the side of my bicep and is threaded through a vein up my arm and down a vein into my chest. Where the line is inserted is covered with gauze and a large piece of clear medical tape. Hanging freely are two tubes, each about 5 inches long into which the nurses connect my iv. The first problem the whole scenario is that you can't really go around with two tubes dangling from your arm, not only for the sake of fashion, but also for the practical reason that if those little buggers get snagged on something and get yanked.....well, since they are attached to a long tube threading my body, it can't be good. Therefore, they are held in place by a tube of fabric known as a sleeve. Also challenging: you can't get it wet. Which brings us to bathing.

So, every time I desire cleanliness, I have to convince Justin to help me saran wrap my arm so that I can take a sponge bath. However, we found that this takes a long time and since I am restricted to my left arm, is problematic. Justin, therefore, had to take over the job. Now, I know that to some of you, especially women, the thought of having one's husband help you bathe is sweet or even romantic. Let me dash those illusions now. Justin is a one-man efficiency machine. I've been trying to think about how to describe the process, and I've come up with this. Have you ever seen a golden retriever being given a bath in one of those large metal dog-washing sinks? Substitute me for the retriever, and that's pretty much what its like. Seriously, I'm pretty sure that he checks me each time for ticks. Now, I don't begrudge him his methodology and indeed I am grateful that he helps me out. Besides, I'd given up any remaining dignity I had long ago.

The other funny bit lately is the quantity of people who have approached Justin and I lately to ask if Justin has someone to talk to. I would say that Justin is doing pretty well right now. He's a little stressed, but who wouldn't be given his situation. I don't think he's about to snap, but then again I don't think anyone would know until he actually snapped. So if he starts mumbling about high powered riffles and bell towers in his sleep, I'll let everyone know...but otherwise I think he's doing ok. Promise.