I must say that was the nicest surgery I've ever had. No nausea or itching from the anesthesia. The nurses let me sleep, and I was ready to go by noon. Of course, as soon as I stood up after being released from all my tubing, nature called very loudly and insistently, and the toilet nearest me was occupied. So as I hobbled out in the corridor looking for a restroom, I caught the eye of a nurse and asked if there was another toilet that way. She kind of stared at me for a couple of seconds, and then pointed and helped me get inside in time, thank goodness. I heard her talking with Dad about how nice it was to see him a second time this week, even though the previous time had been at a funeral. I was puzzled, and tried to think who she could possibly be. After a few minutes, I realized that she had looked familiar, and that the only funeral Mom and Dad had been to last week had been Mom's cousin Gerda, so this nurse must be one of Gerda's daughters. Then I could see the similarities of features. It was Becky. She and Dad talked for a while and then we left.

My port looks vaguely like a tiny purple mouse. It is triangular, with rounded edges, and its "tail" is the part that hooks into my vein. The middle has three bumps, to help the doctors locate it, and a little circular plastic membrane in the center, which is where the needle goes. The needle looks a little like a yellow butterfly with IV tubes coming out of it. The port is completely under my skin, and I have a card and keychain thing to carry with me to show airport security folks in case I set off the alarms, apparently. James and Jason had fun planning smuggling jobs for me, which I politely declined.

I rested all afternoon, getting up barely in time to dress for the photo shoot of my lovely hair. The photographer asked questions first, and kept asking questions after Steve came, so we had a nice chat, and then he started taking photos in his office. He wanted the glasses gone, of course, and I didn't smile much, because I didn't much feel like smiling, so I probably look pretty scary in most of the pictures. He took lots from the back, so I'm sure those will turn out fine. It was actually fun! It was interesting to watch as he would move his body and the camera a little this way and a little that way to get different angles or bits of light. At the end, we were discussing how I'm donating my hair to Locks of Love, and he asked for one more picture: me sitting by him with my hair draped over his non-hair. It made me think of that guy in Finland who had grown out his combover so long that he could wrap it around his head, so he wouldn't look bald. Well, he looked bald anyway.