And I Get a Port
On July 31st, I went to Rogue Valley Medical Center and had my port placed. A port is a device that is planted under my skin, on my chest, just to the right of my heart so that the chemo can get into my blood stream as quickly as possible. The port itself is about a 3/4 ‘s of an inch diameter, and has a catheter that comes off of it and feeds up into my jugular and then through my vein just outside my heart. I have to say that having something connected to my heart is sort of creepy.
The port placement was really uneventful. We got there just before 12:30, got checked in and headed over to the short stay area. The hospital had a numerical tracking board. It was really nice for Matt to be able to look up and see my number and know that I was in surgery or headed back to recovery.
While we were waiting for my turn for surgery we sat around the room and just waited. That’s one thing with medical stuff I’m never going to get used to, waiting. Blah. The area we live in has been battling wildfires lately, and it was so smoky that day that twice while we were there the smoke alarms went off, and that’s just from people coming in and out of the hospital doors. Thankfully, the smoke has not been as thick, so all those poor people who work there don’t have to keep going through fire drills.
My surgery was supposed to start at 2, but they were running late and it was 3:15 before they took me back. Not normally a huge deal, except that they wouldn’t let me eat and I was starving! After the finally took me back it was super quick. 45 minutes and I was awake talking to the nurse. I was even well enough to talk about food. (I told you I was starving). We left the hospital right around 5 and headed straight over to Kaleidoscope Pizza because, well, I was ready to chew on my arm.
It took about a week for the port to heal up, and it wasn’t until the doctor’s office took off the bandage that I really started to feel better. Everyone was telling me I would get to the point where I don’t feel it anymore and I’m glad that I’m there. I mean, I know the port is there, but it’s not taking over my life.
Next up: I head back to HOA and start chemo.