Port. It seems to be the winning word this month on many of the blogs I follow. A few of us have had eerily similar experiences this last month. So here’s another post about ports!

What is a port? For many of us it’s a life line and a lifesaver for our poor scarred veins. In a more medical explanation it’s a device that is placed in the chest with a line that feeds into a main vein. It is used to draw blood and administer drugs and other other fluids. There are a few types. My port was a power port. It’s triangular in shape and to me looks very Stat Trekkie.

When I had Hodgkins this wasn’t an option at the time so each visit, I was poked and repoked. My poor veins…Weekly I’d say “You need to use a butterfly needle”. When I was given the Red Devil chemo cocktail with breast cancer, I had a port and it was amazing. Yes there were times I had to maybe lay down or roll on my side with one leg up to get it to work but it lasted me throughout the entire treatment regime.

On December 29th, 2020 I had another port placed. Oral chemo and hormones were no longer effective. I was prepared for the port. After all it was amazing the last go around. By February I was septic and it was removed. Damn little bugger.

You’d think I’d be wary about getting another. I know my loved ones are. But nope. These little Star Trek contraptions are like gold to us Metties. We love them as much as we need them. So for weeks now I’ve been harassing my doctor about setting a placement date. He called Tuesday and said “You free Wednesday for surgery?”

Hell yeah!!! Clear my calendar!!!!’

My port is back. The surgery was successful and even more amazing were all the familiar faces that stopped in to see me before and after. Nurse after nurse from my hospital stay came in to wish me luck or check on me. Apparently news travels fast that the foul mouthed patient is back and ready for round 200 in this fight.

Today is chemo. I’m not sure how this will go as I’m super sore. Regardless it’s a good week. My port is back and with it my confidence. Another hurdle jumped. As my doc said…this isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. You can stop for water in a marathon. Well I got my sips of water in. Let’s get back to running.

And please no more damn infections…