March 25, 2016: My Port Removal

Removal of a Port
When I had my port inserted in December 2014, it was day surgery. I went in. They put me to sleep, cut me open, inserted the port, and sewed me up. I woke up and went home. A few days later, they used it for my first round of chemotherapy. 
They said getting it out would be a piece of cake. They said it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. They said I’d be in and out in under fifteen minutes. They said it wouldn’t hurt. They lied!
First of all, I went to my breast surgeon’s office for the procedure instead of a hospital. Then, she cleaned the site, shot me up with some kind of numbing stuff, and cut me open right there in her office. Let me stop here and say no matter how many of those career battery tests I take that put being a nurse at the top of my “What you should be when you grow up” list say, I should never be a nurse! Just the sound and appearance of all the doctor’s tools freak me out. To make matters worse, she cuts a small blood vessel that proceeds to cover my face in blood and I can feel blood running down my back. I thought I might lose it. I really don’t do blood well at all. 
My body had decided my port was there to stay, so it decided to claim it as its own. She said tissue had grown into every nook and cranny there was. I really didn’t need to know this to be honest. Needless to say, fifteen minutes goes by and I have to have my site numbed again because I can feel her pulling and snipping away at this port and my own tissue. To make matters worse, I get a hot flash so now I have sweat pouring down my face. I can feel some form of liquid (probably a flushing solution) going down my back, and I’m past ready for this to be all over. 
The doctor apologizes. She asks the nurse for another scary looking tool and has to numb the area again as she tugs, pulls, and snips away in another attempt to get this port out of body. 
Finally, I hear the nurse let out her breath. I guess she was holding it in or something. She tells me the port is out. I don’t look. I’m not that crazy. I would have totally passed out or puked. I feel these clamp like things being removed and the needle and thread come out. I just close my eyes. There’s no reason for me to watch this. She puts in a few stitches, tapes me up, gives me my care instructions, lets me get dressed, and sends me home. 
I’m port free! I’m port free! Do you know what that really means? It means they are no longer fearful of cancer coming back. That’s something worth celebrating! That makes all the trauma to my mind worth it!
Later in the day, my arm was stiff, but I managed to drive to my daughter’s One Act Play for competition without any problems. I slept okay last night. Today, life has gone on pretty much as normal including a two mile walk/jog. 
I get to mark off another milestone. I remind myself that some never get to have their ports removed. I am one of the ones left behind for some unfinished business God has in store for my life. I give Him the glory and praise His name as I walk through the downhill stretch of this journey with Him beside me just as He has been all along. 
God has a plan. It is good!

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About courage2conquercancer

At the age of 40, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. This is an account of my journey from my discovery and beyond.
This entry was posted in after cancer, After chemo, port surgery, Survivor and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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