Morphine!

You may have heard about my central line, but that was minor compared to my intra-arterial line the next day.  Within a few hours of the line placement, I had four hours of chemo aimed directly to my tumor (Cisplatin for those keeping score).  That is four hours without moving either leg (they go in the left, above the groin and down the right).  After chemo, the line can be pulled, and I have 6 more hours of no movement with a 10lb sandbag on the wound.  This ~10hrs would have been bad enough, except apparently the only people capable (or willing) to pull the line leave at 6 PM, and I wasn't done with chemo by then.  So I kept it all night, and had the line pulled first thing in the morning, which made for an additional 12 hours of lying flat.  Morphine and other anti-anxiety meds were my friends.

Apparently I said and did some very funny things during those hours:

1. Accused a former, and married, pastor of picking up a 24-year-old in the garage when he helped her change two flat tires. He is 40 years old, so the youngest pick up allowed is 40 / 2 + 7 = 27, a major faux pas on his part.
2. Morphine texted a friend with numerous nonsensical statements and spellings.
3. A rather eccentric Episcopal priest came by while I was nearly out.  I somehow noticed his wedding ring and thought it was a good idea to point out that some married Episcopal priests have decided to rejoin the Catholic church as priests and were allowed to keep their wives.
4. Made Summer go to the car to get our copy of Dominion only to declare myself too stoned to play once she got back.

I do remember my good friend Bryan Pate reading by my bed.  He is the winner of the Chemosabe award for phase one.  My dear CW never left my side (except to get Dominion and coffee).  Overall, not one of my favorite moments of the weekend, but possibly not the worst.  The morphine made the time pass faster than the days following, and I have some degree of amnesia from the period.

A couple of days later my coworker Javy swung by and dropped off a fun little game called Blokus.  Even in my stoned state, I still beat Summer!  (Nothing wrong with my competitive drive)