I've Been "De-Ported"

No...I haven't left for some foreign land. But, I am looking a little less like an alien now ;). Yesterday I had the final surgery in my treatment journey when they removed the port from my chest.

My port - a small triangular device implanted in my right upper chest, had a flexible catheter tube that extended under my skin and through my jugular vein all the way to the superior vena cava, terminating just upstream of my right atrium. The port was how I received all those toxic chemo drugs. The catheter's placement allowed delivery of the chemo drugs close enough to my heart so that they could be easily diluted and quickly dispatched to all the cells in my body, without damaging my veins (chemo drugs are very caustic).

Now that I no longer need the port (YAYYYY!!) it was time to take it out. The removal process is much less invasive than the insertion - in fact, this time no surgical suite - just the doctor's office. No anesthesia - just local. Only one incision instead of two. And, the entire process took maybe 20 minutes. Still, I found myself extremely anxious before the procedure. Didn't help that there was a long delay in the waiting room (over an hour!)...at which point I suggested to the nurse that they might want to consider serving cocktails! Ha!

I was accompanied by my very brave Bff Heather - I say brave because she is pretty squeamish about most things medical - and ALL things bloody (ha)! Despite that, she managed to actually stay with me during the entire procedure (looking the other way, of course), and held my hand to comfort me. I cannot begin to tell you how important that was to me!! I was so anxiety-ridden by the time they began that I was shaking - and I was scared to death that I might move and mess something important up! But, between Heather's hand-holding, and the surgeon's deft use of conversation about wine (!) to engage my mind and shift my focus, I made it through - albeit with a chorus of "owwwww's" as they injected me with local anesthetic in what felt like a hundred different places on my chest! Once the anesthetic took effect, I still felt everything, but it didn't really hurt (still required a couple of oww's though!).

It's funny...after everything I've been through over the past 10 months - and for that matter, in my 50 years of life, you'd think that a little thing like this would be no big deal to me - but it was. Here are my thoughts on why...

Compared to all of the surgeries and procedures I've had, the installation of my port (back in September)  was the least explained to me, in advance. It was kind of a "matter-of-fact" approach, with little preparation for the "patient" - ME! I was scheduled, given the usual pre-surgery instructions about fasting, and that was that. Of course, I went online to do my own research (as well as watch the procedure - but hey that's just me!) all of which helped a bit, but still I didn't have specific details because there are lots of different types of ports, different approaches to the insertion/installation, etc. and I'm someone who requires specific information to mentally prepare. Even stranger (to me) was that I never even got to meet the surgeon until the actual procedure!

So...short story is that the installation went down as a "bad experience" in my memory banks. Lots of anxiety (much more so than yesterday!), lots of pain for about a week afterwards, and a feeling that my emotional needs as a patient were not met in this case - not even close. And, despite hearing from others, as well as virtually every health care professional that I asked, who assured me that the removal would be a cakewalk compared to the installation, I was more than a little skeptical. Hence the nerves.

Another interesting thing for me...the port didn't really bother me once it "settled in". I got some amusement from showing it off and watching people wince at the thought - as I explained in detail about it (hehehe). The appearance didn't bother me that much either. Occasionally it got sore when I overdid it on that side, or moved just the right (or wrong??) way. But, for the most part, I didn't mind it being there. And, it certainly did what it was supposed to do. Unlike some, I never had a problem with it. It functioned perfectly every time. So, in an odd sort of way, I grew a little attached to the thing! Having it removed was not so much of a long-awaited celebration, as it was just one more procedure to dread. In fact, I even considered keeping it - a sort of perverse souvenir - but the surgeon dissuaded me - hehe ;).

Anyway, it's done. I've got a big ol' bandage and I have to take it easy and keep it dry for a couple of days. The pain is managed with my drug of choice - ibuprofen 600's - and ice. We'll see what kind of scar I'm left with, but whatever it is, I'll be proud of it...A warrior's battle scar from a fight well fought - and won!

As for my misgivings about the process...I'll speak to that more in my book - which still remains nameless (gotta do something about that!). After talking to other cancer survivors - I've found there's a lot of emotion, a lot of opinion, a diverse range of experiences and yet, not a lot of talk about getting a port placed before chemo. I'd like to have a hand at changing that - for the better - recognizing both the emotional and physical sides of the equation.

I do want to be very clear about one thing...my doctors, nurses, technicians...virtually everyone I've had contact with on the course of this journey have been absolutely fabulous!!! Pretty stunning when you consider the pressure & stress that everyone in the health care profession faces on a daily basis. And, that includes the vascular surgeon and his staff, who performed both the installation and removal of my port. I have the utmost respect for each one of these professionals - and I owe my life to their well-honed skills, expertise, dedication, and their desire to serve others! I am extremely grateful!

Very soon now, I will put all of this behind me. But, for the moment, I'm still healing and I still have some work to do...The book I referred to is a sort of compilation of what I've learned on this journey - spiritually, physically, intellectually - some of it will be conveyed with my quirky sense of humor, some of it will, I hope, inspire others, educate, and maybe even spark little changes that could mean a lot to someone, somewhere going through what I've been through. I'll keep you posted on my progress.

The other thing I'd like to do, before I completely walk away from this experience, is to have the opportunity to coach others going through it. My practice of Deliberate Sensuality - something I originally created to assist others in learning how to savor life moment to moment and to allow more pleasure into their lives - was very much a part of my day-to-day awareness during chemo and radiation. It helped me to find things to appreciate during the roughest experience of my life - and to "milk the good stuff" for all it was worth. If you know anyone who could benefit from a little of that - no matter what they're going through - please do send them my way! My coaching website is http://www.deliberatesensuality.com.

I'll continue the updates here indefinitely. I've grown to love this blog, your comments especially, and the writing for me has been very therapeutic. So...I'll keep going and we'll just see where inspiration leads me ;). Thanks as always for your support!

I love you!
Lisa