Super charged, wonder woman power port installed!

Nope, this isn’t my actual port, it’s a photo of a port on Wikipedia.com

So, I’m not feeling super charged or wonder woman-like right now at all, but having a little metal portal for power drugs makes me feel like I should.  The photo above depicts a port (which is about the size of a quarter and implanted under my skin) and the assembly (the square with tube and needle-this is how the chemo drugs are delivered right into the port)  Apparently, it’s necessary to have a port “to deliver chemotherapy to cancer patients who must undergo treatment frequently.  Chemotherapy is often toxic, and can damage skin and muscle tissue, and therefore should not be delivered through these tissues.  Portacaths provide a solution, delivering drugs quickly and efficiently through the entire body via the circulatory system.” Love, Wikipedia.

The port is under my skin on my right chest area just under my clavicle.  It’s a reservoir compartment, with a silicone bubble (for the needle) and a catheter, which runs directly into a vain.  When I go to SCOA for my treatments, they’ll pop that needle right in and serve me up.  I’ve heard they will spray the skin above the port with a bit of anesthetic numbing spray until it toughens up, but when I showed Mel the above photo, he said, “Damn, that looks like a nail.”  Thanks, Sweetie, for always keeping it real.

This photo is not of me, but an image of a chest x-ray with an implanted port.

I had my own chest x-ray after my procedure today to make certain of placement, but didn’t receive the film, nor do I even remember it.  Too bad.  The only thing I remember about today is guiltily admitting to the nurse anesthetist of having a bite of McCanless sausage link this morning, and being rolled down the hallway into the surgical suite and telling Mel I felt like I needed glasses.  The next thing I knew I was being rolled back into recovery asking my sweet nurse if she was pregnant.  (Did I really break the Cardinal Rule of Women? She was, in fact, pregnant.  Whew!)

This is the photo I texted to friends and family on our way home to let them know I survived! The grimace isn’t from pain, as I was still feeling my happy drugs, it’s from the huge bandage and yellow skin around it.

I have a bandage covering my port area and a swollen, bruised neck.  It’s sore like you wouldn’t believe and burns like crazy.  One nurse told me that Dr. Sweatman would be pulling, and nudging and pushing my port into place, so I imagine that’s why it’s crazy sore. Not sure about my neck.  I’m looking forward to going to bed tonight, although I’m sure there’s nothing quite like a metal grommet pressing into your chest to keep you up.

As only a mom would, I swore I could get the girls fed, bathed, homeworked and in the bed all by stiff-necked self, as Mel had a council meeting until late.  I made it through Spelling and had MC in the tub when I had to break down and call my mom.  MC sat “soaking” until Nonnie arrived to save the day.  (Thanks, mom.  MC may have turned into a mermaid had you not come to my rescue.)

I’m sure I’m still “enjoying” the effects of the hospital drugs and tomorrow I’ll hit a wall, but guess what?  One more procedure down!

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