Ironically the worst night of sleep I’ve had in years was last night — feel like midgets spent the evening slapping me in the forehead every time I closed my eyes. That should make for some entertaining results with this sleep study. Going to end up the poster child for something at this point.
Getting a port put in today. I fought this for what, 3 years? Sick of getting poked and nurses not being able to find my veins easily anymore, but I had fought this until recently. I think something changed when I was in the hospital last month with pneumonia. I just feel defeated a bit, broken down. Tired of mentally fighting to pretend things could go back to normal, that this was all just a phase. Something about staring at those ceiling tiles, again and again, just broke down my resistance, until the thought of just not being stuck (or missed, as the case more often is) constantly got to be too much.
Oh well — on the bright side, I foresee a LOT of natural painkilling methods tonight followed by a sick UFC card on Saturday, so screw it, bring on the cyborg Rich.