For those who don't know... a port (also known as a mediport) is a small device that is implanted in your chest under the skin with a catheter that feeds directly into one of your main veins. It is used by cancer patients as a way to more comfortably recieve chemotherapy drugs and to have blood drawn from. Although it seems more difficult, it is actually much more pleasant than being constantly "stuck" with a needle directly into your arm.
Chemotherapy drugs are really harsh. And they can do a number on your veins. It is not too uncommon for the drugs to burn some patients at the point of administration (and along the arm) but having a port saves you from that possibility.
In the summer of 2008 (I think it was August) when I received my port, I thought my oncologist was "special" for insisting that I have it. I had no idea how badly chemo could damage your veins or your muscles. But, after sitting in the cancer center watching other patients who did not have ports deal with burning in their arms, collapsing veins, etc. I greatly appreciated his foresight and his insistence.
The interesting thing about a port is getting accustomed to being "stuck" in your chest with a big needle everytime you receive chemotherapy or have bloodwork drawn. When I went to the hospital the other day for my follow-up visit, I had some blood drawn through my port. OUCH! I was out of practice with taking that needle and gained a new appreciation for all the times that I did so with no tears and no wincing.
I was a soldier for all of those months of chemotherapy. A real soldier.
It was previously scheduled to be removed in November but I (pretty much) ignored the surgery date because I was stressing out about my reconstruction surgery which was around the same time.
I really didn't think too much about having it removed this time because chemo seems so long ago. I honestly don't think I really had much choice anyway. A friend made a comment to me the night before the procedure that really made me pause.
She was happy that I was getting my port taken out. And at that moment I realized that I wasn't happy at all about it. I wasn't overly emotional -- one way or the other -- but I realized that having the port removed meant the end of something. And I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
Removing my port means that my oncology team believes that chemo is not in my future. It means that they are confident that I'm cured and can resume a normal life. Because keeping a port requires regular maintenance -- it has to be flushed at least once a month -- when it is deemed that you are in the clear, you are advised to have your port removed.
My port had become a safety net (one of many) for me. I didn't realize it until it was time for it to go. I know that I am overly fascinated with the notion of returning to "normal" -- probably not unlike most cancer patients. I suppose it is a normal and healthy reaction to going through something so very harrowing. But... as I've shared before, I have a serious fear about recurrence. A part of me has become secure in being "the cancer girl". Having cancer, dealing with it and all its craziness, became normal for me. So the parts of that journey that empowered me, like my port, gave me a strength and a confidence that I really had come to rely upon. Slowly, they are being stripped from me.
I suppose that is a good thing actually. But, I'm realizing just how weak I am without all of these crutches I've been leaning on for the past two years. I hope that my friends and family will bear with me while I get my strength to stand on my own back.
PS. My mother went with me to the hospital -- because I was going to be fully sedated, I could not leave the hospital on my own. She thought I was CRAZY to ask the surgeon to give me my port after the procedure. But besides the fact that I paid for it (laughs)... I needed to see and hold the device that played a part in saving my life. I did not want it to end up in the garbage can because it was such an important piece of the journey for me. Its gross I suppose to keep a talisman like that. But, I needed to see it. To be reminded of all that I've been through.
A part of me is really terrified of forgetting all of this. I have a strong tendency to block out unpleasant things or things that become less important in my life. I mean, completely block out and forget about it. I don't want to minimize any part of this cancer journey though. I don't want to forget too much of it. I don't want to look around and think it was just a blip that I experienced. I want to always be able to connect to the emotions of this time, and keeping the port is a way to remember. (But yes, I know that its a little odd)
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