Going to Port

After my last chemo, the nursing staff was very frustrtated working with my IV so I was scheduled to get a portacatheter placed.  This is something, again, that I wasn't looking forward to and I didn't want to do.  With cancer, you don't get a lot of choices and you never feel in control.  This has been a challenge for my Type A personality. 

A port is essentially just an IV that staying all the time that all of my chemo and blood draws can be admninistered through.  I just get one very small poke and everything else is fed through the line. 

(image: Google images)

I was scheduled for surgery with the lovely Dr. DJ to get my port placed.  Just a simple, same day procedure.  My good friend Melissa agreed to take me because Sam needed to already take me to chemo that week.  She picked me up in one of our many spring snow storms and we trekked our way to the hospital.  It was a slow drive with lots of cars in the ditch, but we made it with plenty of time to spare. 

I checked in at the information desk and a volunteer escorted us into the operating room dungeon down stairs. I don't think he thought we were nearly as funny as we did; he introduced us to the addmissions woman as the two smart asses.  Whoops.  It was a short wait and I was taken back to get prepared for surgery. 

I have lost all of my hair by this point, so I was wearing my hat.  Just dreading the time when they were going to tell me to take it off.  I did not want to take off my hat.  Again the nursing staff was great and the process went by quickly.  Because of the weather a lot of people had cancelled, so I seemed to get a lot of attention.  Getting an IV started was a problem again, I still have bruises nearly 2 weeks later (and yes, I know I got behind on my blog--sorry!).  But the CRNA finally got a good stick. 

Melissa got to come back and see me before I went in.  Of course we joked and laughed most of the time.  That's why I like this girl, she thinks I'm funny.  Before I knew I was taken back for a quick nap and then taken to the recovery room.  Everything went really quickly and easy. 

Now I look more like an alien with a lump on my chest where the port access is.  I know this will ultimately make things easier on everyone, but I just didn't want it.  It feels funny and I don't like the lump.  I got to try it out at chemo the next day.

(image: Google images, I don't have black chest hairs)