So, you all know I had a port surgically implanted in May. You might be wondering what the heck it is, what does it look like and how does it work. Well, I'm here to help. I posted a diagram previously (I think) but I will provide some additional information here. Ready?

So here's what it looks like all by itself.

This lovely little critter was implanted on my chest, just under the skin a couple of inches down from my collar bone on the right side. The little tube you see runs from the port into a nice juicy vein. Here's another diagram to show you how that works.

You can easily see the port as a raised area on my chest and you can also see the tube through the skin near my collar bone. It's not the most pleasant thing to look at but it's not nightmarish either. It is MUCH better than being stuck in the arm or having to deal with multiple sticks to find a good vein for a traditional IV. If you are going to go through treatment, I highly recommend getting a port. They can do your blood draws and administer meds all after a single, almost always successful, stick. It's the way to go. So, how do they access this little medical marvel? I shall show you. I will try to use diagrams rather than pics wherever I can just in case anyone is a little squeamish about needles. Here is the first...

This is what I get stuck with every week. Yes, it can hurt but it usually doesn't because my Oncologist was kind enough to prescribe numbing cream. Prior to each treatment, I, or one of my treatment buddies, take a huge dollop of cream and slather it over the port site then cover it with Press N Seal...yes, the stuff you buy at the grocery store. It was a tip from one of my nurses and it sure helps to keep that gunk off of clothes, seatbelts...everything. 

So the point of covering all of this is to give you an idea what's involved so I can talk about today's test. I had a bit of a brain cramp this morning and was working under the belief that I had a good amount of time for my numbing cream to start working. In round one I had a visit with my Oncologist prior to each infusion. Now that I'm going weekly, I will continue to see him every 2 weeks so that means no visit with the doc today - straight on in for infusion. So, basically, I didn't get the normal amount of time for the numbing cream to work. That hit me as we hit the road this morning. I didn't panic because it only lasts for a second and I've definitely experienced worse pain than a stick in the chest with a large needle to it's all relative, right? Plus, since I knew it was coming I was able to mentally prepare. When the time came, it did hurt a bit but I didn't even flinch. Woot woot!  

Let me rewind a little and point out that before they insert the needle they (obviously) have to clean off the big blob of cream from the port site. So remember, I wasn't all the way numb to begin with and THEN the cream was removed, I was plugged in for blood draw, pre-meds and then an hour long Tax infusion. Needless to say there was little or no numbness by the time it was over. 

The typical removal process includes the nurse reminding me to take a deep breath, she squeezes the little butterfly wings at the top of the needle and pulls that bad boy out. Today I took the deep breath and she pulled it out and that crap HURT! I'm not sure what happened but not only did I feel a good amount of discomfort (pain), I bled quite a bit too. I hardly ever bleed. It was sore for a while after and this evening I noticed that I appear to have a bruise on the site. So there's my test for the day - it just so happened that on the day I failed miserably on my numbing cream application, I had a needle removal malfunction. I'm happy to say that I'm fine and I'm still smiling and dancing. It's just another experience on this journey that will keep me on my toes and a story I can tell that will, hopefully, help someone who will be going through treatment in the future. Not every day is perfect but you'll get through it. Just do your best to prepare and push on!

I have more updates but I'm going to get some sleep. 

Love to all!

Andee