The Big Day
So today is my last day sporting this hideous port. I'm scheduled to have it plucked out tomorrow morning at 10:00. Damn, it will be such a huge relief to have this horrible thing removed from my body. I hate the way it looks, I hate the way it feels, I hate the way it aches when I move, I hate the way my straps rub raw against it, I hate that I can't workout or lift weights with it, I hate going down to the hospital every four weeks to have it flushed out with saline solution. I hate the very idea of having a creepy foreign body implanted in my chest wall. And I especially hate the way it brands me: Person With Cancer.
I know there are lots of people who love their ports, who barely notice them, who keep them for years. I would wager that most of these folks are plumper than I am. Lean people tend to feel more pain and discomfort from their ports. Our skin has to stretch tautly over the protrusion, and our ports are more hideously visible. We don't have enough adipose tissue to anchor them firmly in place so they slide around which can be extremely irritating. But none of the doctors I spoke to in my campaign to have the damn thing removed seemed to be aware of this distinction. The chemo nurses, of course, are well aware of the difference.
Anyway, it's not going to be a big deal surgery. I don't need to bring a designated driver, and I'm allowed to eat breakfast before my appointment. The procedure is performed under a local anesthetic and should take about 45 minutes (though there will certainly be a two to four hour wait for it to start). Then they'll stitch me up, tape me together, and send me home a Brand New Normal Person again!
Of course I'm acutely aware that there's an unpleasantly high chance that I'll have to turn right around and have it put back in again, if my August scans don't bode well, or if my daily checks suddenly reveal an enlarged node. I wish they had taken it out when I first asked, back in April, so I could have spent the last three months working out and building up my stores of lean body mass, replacing the muscle and bone I lost during chemo so I'll be stronger if I do need to go through treatment again. Because if there is a next round of treatment, believe me it's going to make the first round look like a Sunday picnic in the park.
But even knowing how disconcertingly high the odds are that I'll need a new port someday, I'm still so exceedingly happy about having this one taken out tomorrow, I'm about to explode with joy! Stay tuned for magnificently gory suture pics.
![](http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y299/wachendorfia/DSC04417.jpg)
Pupside-down dog
![](http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y299/wachendorfia/DSC04428.jpg)
Ridiculously happy person
I know there are lots of people who love their ports, who barely notice them, who keep them for years. I would wager that most of these folks are plumper than I am. Lean people tend to feel more pain and discomfort from their ports. Our skin has to stretch tautly over the protrusion, and our ports are more hideously visible. We don't have enough adipose tissue to anchor them firmly in place so they slide around which can be extremely irritating. But none of the doctors I spoke to in my campaign to have the damn thing removed seemed to be aware of this distinction. The chemo nurses, of course, are well aware of the difference.
Anyway, it's not going to be a big deal surgery. I don't need to bring a designated driver, and I'm allowed to eat breakfast before my appointment. The procedure is performed under a local anesthetic and should take about 45 minutes (though there will certainly be a two to four hour wait for it to start). Then they'll stitch me up, tape me together, and send me home a Brand New Normal Person again!
Of course I'm acutely aware that there's an unpleasantly high chance that I'll have to turn right around and have it put back in again, if my August scans don't bode well, or if my daily checks suddenly reveal an enlarged node. I wish they had taken it out when I first asked, back in April, so I could have spent the last three months working out and building up my stores of lean body mass, replacing the muscle and bone I lost during chemo so I'll be stronger if I do need to go through treatment again. Because if there is a next round of treatment, believe me it's going to make the first round look like a Sunday picnic in the park.
But even knowing how disconcertingly high the odds are that I'll need a new port someday, I'm still so exceedingly happy about having this one taken out tomorrow, I'm about to explode with joy! Stay tuned for magnificently gory suture pics.
![](http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y299/wachendorfia/DSC04417.jpg)
Pupside-down dog
![](http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y299/wachendorfia/DSC04428.jpg)
Ridiculously happy person
6 Comments:
Congratulations on your impending port-lessness! And the new boyfriend is really very handsome and charming. I'm so happy for you on both counts.
I'm so glad! And your pupside-down boy is adorable. :)
Wow! Just in time for Independence Day! I'd say that's cause for fireworks.
Meanwhile, your new boyfriend goes spectacularly well with that loveseat, which seems to have been especially designed for him. Against that floral pattern that goes so well with his coloring, he looks like a hound stitched into an medieval tapestry.
I love your boyfriend!!
Superman seems to have taken over that loveseat for himself. What a happy dog!
That new dog is really cracking me up! He really seems to be at home! ( understatement of the year) Have a great time tomorrow with the final restoration of your port removal. Tank tops will abound, have you found a polka dot one yet?
Cheers, debinca
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