Helga

Everything iced over in the early morning hours Tuesday.  School was canceled, but some friends offered to have Gisèle and Miles over while Jamie and I were at the hospital.  We dropped them off and then arrived at the hospital shortly before 8:00am.

Leading up to the port placement, I had a lot of anxiety.  This was the first permanent, visible change that marked me as a cancer patient.  I already knew I had cancer.  I had gone to all the appointments and had all the scans.  But this?  This surgery would result in a daily reminder that I was going through treatment.  This was the beginning of everything.  It was hard not to get emotional leading up to it all.

I got checked in quickly and taken back to interventional radiology.  An IV was started first, and blood was drawn.  The echocardiogram came next.  It was done as a baseline since chemo can be hard on your heart; when I have subsequent scans done, they'll be compared to this one to see if any damage has been done.   After that we waited a while for a lung biopsy to be done on the guy next door before my procedure could start.  

While waiting, a good friend of ours who works at the hospital came by to visit.  She works there in the IR and was able to be present for my port placement.  When I was wheeled back to the procedure room, she was waiting for me.  Chatting with her while everything was being set up around me was a nice distraction.

The actual procedure was no fun.  I was given twilight sedation, so I was completely awake for the entire thing.  (I was hoping it would just knock me out.)  When it started, I felt quite a bit of pain, and had to be given two more doses of the pain medication in my IV before I was numb.  After that, there was a lot of pushing/pulling/pressure in my neck and chest during the fifteen minute procedure.  I tried to just keep my breathing even and not think about was going on. 

Recovery there in the hospital for an hour was a breeze.  I was still numb and relaxed and was ready to go so I could get something to eat and drink and get out of the hospital gown and back into my comfy clothes.  It was on the ride home that the pain started to creep in.  About halfway home, every bump in the road seemed to jar my collarbone.  Once we got home after picking up the kids, I managed to get out of the car, but realized that walking used my chest muscles.  And my chest muscles were angry.

For the last 36 hours or so, I've been either in the armchair or propped up with pillows in bed.  Today has been a little better than yesterday, but I think I'll need every day of the two weeks I was told it takes for full healing.

I've named my port Helga because it hurts like hell.

(If you're interested in what a port looks like - placement and use - click here for a good drawing.)

Feeling pretty good right after port placement