Port Installation

Writing this post haste for a friend of friend who is wondering about this procedure.

The week before I began chemo treatments, I had a port surgically installed. A port is a device installed inside your body that allows what I've come to think of as main-veining directly into the bloodstream to avoid deterioration, burns and other ugliness that might come with all the puncturing that comes with chemo treatments and the many blood draws. Medication can be administered as well as blood drawn through a port. Mine was installed in the upper portion of my chest below my collar bone.

The surgery that I had to install the port was brief. They wheeled me in on a stretcher after giving me a local numbing injections. I was awake for the entire operation. There was pain, there was blood.  There are many detailed descriptions of this on line. I look for a good one and post it.

It was worth it to have this done.

The port I have is called a dignity port because it's supposedly buried deeply enough in the skin that it's not visible. I can always see mine. I notice people glancing at it, trying not to star if I wear clothing that reveals that part of my chest. No one was ever brave enough to ask me about it.

In the aftermath of the port, I am glad that I have it. It saved me being used as a pin cushion. It prevented blowing my veins.

Please be warned that anyone with a port needs to be insistant that it be used or you will find yourself still being punctured in the arm. Just say NO! Insist that they use the port. Only a nurse can access your port.  Phlebotomists are not trained to use a port. All nurses are not experienced with accessing a port and sometimes it can be a problem. When I was admitted to WCA (a local hospital) the first nurse to try (sans numbing cream) didn't quite get it or didn't think he had and another nurse was called in. Ports are a new thing for many nurses who are not used to cancer patients.

Even though I had my port accessed, the blood suckers would come in the very early hours of the morning to try and draw my blood while I was sleep during my stay at WCA. I almost let them do it once because I was so sound asleep but I managed to wake up and fend them off. After that I wrote "NO" on my the crease of both my arms with a black sharpie.

When I was going through my treatments at Rosewell, they would often schedule me to go to the Phlebotomists before hand. I had to refuse that appointment and arrive early at the oncologist, because they would forget to schedule me properly as a patient who had a port. There was no way I was going to let them puncture my veins when I had the port. I had the port installed for a reason and they were going to use it.

One note, I'm not sure about this and I can't find the reference but I remember reading that it's better to have the port on the opposite side of the heart, in the right side of the chest rather than the left. I can't remember why. I had mine on the left side, opposite the side of my breast cancer which is what was recommended. I'm not sure why. That, I need to research further. This is something to take note of. I write that for anyone who might be about to go for and has gone for the same and is reading this.

I'm glad I had the port installed. I know it saved me a lot of grief. Ports save veins. The chemicals used in chemo can cause burns and reactions in the arms. Veins get chewed up.

They say you won't even know you have it. This is not true. I am always aware of my port and it lends itself to me being more cautious with that part of my body. I have a fear of being bumped into, hugged too hard or falling. Having an active young child who is very physical is cause for some of this concern. The area where the port is installed is sensitive. It feels tight sometimes and I can feel it.

What I am told is very expensive numbing cream they gave me to put on an hour before hand, I don't know if it made a difference. What made the most difference was the skill of the nurse using the port, some nurse were so good it was nothing and others not so much. There were several times when I was in situations where I didn't know in advance (hospital and emergency visits) that they would access my port so I had no time to put on the cream.

I was told by some of the nurses that people who are thinner tend to be more sensitive with the port. That made be feel good because I'm not that thin but if anyone thinks I am then I am going be happy to hear that.

Surgery

Arriving at NY Prespeterian at 8am, I had two procedures to go through before I had my surgery

Dye injection
A blue dye is injected into the upper part of my breast that I am told to massage so that it enters the lymph nodes. This is to see which lymph nodes are fed my a direct link to the breast and those are the ones that are removed during surgery.

Poking  breast with a wire
I can't remember the name of this procedure but what is done is rather fascinating. Basically, they inject me with some sort of local anesthesia to numb the area and they commence poking me in the breast with a wire seeking out the marker that was placed in the tumor back in August. They hook the wire around the tiny marker by poking and prodding over and over again, running in and out of the room while they x-ray until it's perfectly hooked. They let me see the x-ray, I wish I had my iphone with me so I could have taken a pic. It was a happy moment when they completed the procedure.

This is done so that the surgeon has a guideline to find the tumor site and remove that tissue. I found this to be very clever and using foresight by many medical professions. I think that Dr that did my original biopsy back in August for placing that there.

The Surgery
I don't remember much about this except coming into the room and getting strapped onto a table like jesus on the cross. Many people where moving about the room, everyone was masked and friendly enough behind those masks. They asked a lot of questions about my breathing because I was still recovering from the pneumonia. I wasn't coughing up anything yellow or dark and my lungs were clear so they went ahead.

I woke up from a dragon demon dream in recovery, moaning from the pain. All the Game of Thrones reading I suspect. I hated to leave that for the reality of a recovery room. It seemed like I'd been out for a while. My throat hurt like a bitch. I was spitting up blood. It was from shoving a tube down my throat (tracheal intubation) while I was anesthetized. Oh yes, every thing hurt. Turn up the meds, pleazzzze.

I was in and out of consciousness. They gave me some Ginger Ale eventually and moved me to the recovery room The surgeon came into to see me along with nurses and I don't remember who all else. Eventually, I was moved into a recovery.

One thing I want to mention is that I happened to have some Slipper Elm Bark on hand. I knew there was a reason I was carrying it around in my bag. It was so helpful and they effect on my ravaged painful throat was almost instant. Sometimes it the small things. 

We spent a long time in recovery. It was a tight space with a lot of activity. From where I sat I could see the front desk and there was lots of activity with many many visitors coming in and out. I wanted out of there. I wanted chinese food. They gave me a horrid dry turkey sandwich which I nibbled on. When I dressed and stood to leave, a tidal wave of nausea hit me. I thought I was going to heave. It took all of my mental concentration to not do that. My body couldn't take it when I was still recovering from pneumonia and just post surgery. I begged it not do it. I made about 10 trips or more to the toilet with diarrhea. The nurses were trying to get in touch with the on call hospital doctor to get me a pill to help. It took a long long long time for that doctor to get back and me to get that pill. Thank you nurses for holding out, waiting with me and getting pill.

I was the last one to leave the recovery area waiting for the pill. It helped soooo much. We didn't leave until close to 9-10pm. I wanted chinese food again. I got it. It was the best Chinese food ever.


Review of pre-sugery:
The one thing I found unnerving about this surgery was how they moved me from place to place for all the procedures. I had to wear a hospital gown, pants, robe and these itchy little socks. They had me walking around in public halls, taking elevators and going from place to place without any solid foot wear. This was not reassuring, felt plain sketchy and unsafe. I walked into surgery with those some sock on, IN PUBLIC HALLS. That didn't feel okay to me. I commented while I was escorted around by various medical staff for the pre-surgery treatments and they apologized but this was the way it was. How is that reducing infection? Me, dashing about the halls in the clothing I'll be wearing in surgery?   I wish I had been permitted to wear my sneakers or advised to bring some type of footwear or loaned a pair of something like crocks.