It was still dark when we drove to the hospital for the early-morning surgery, and it occurred to me that this felt like I was about to be kidnapped by space aliens. I would wake up in a few hours and have no idea at first what had been done to my insides and what it meant.
In fact, when I did come home the next week and return to normal-life activities like showering, I kept feeling the same surreal sense of surprise, like "What's this wound on my stomach?" I know it's another one of the laparascopic incisions, but there's an eerie back-sense of "Oh my God, that's where they stuck another one of their probes."
Next week I am getting a port implanted under my skin for chemo. It seems very Cylon-esque, like the aliens are taking me for one of their own.
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