Port-A-Cath Insertion

Yesterday, I passed over another "bridge." Another surgery was scheduled for yesterday morning, implanting a port (container) in my chest for a catheter (like an IV line) to go into my inferior vena cava (heart vessel) because my only usable arm veins couldn't take the chemo infusions, in fact, no one is given chemotherapy through their arm veins because the drugs damage the veins.

It was "really minor (a total cost of nearly $5,000!)," but I did NOT want to be cut again and felt most vulnerable. This would be my 3rd trip to surgery in three months.

A friend and colleague was accompanying me, and planned to stay until afternoon, at my side (except for the actual operating room). She's a tiger, she could do it (a seasoned Child Protective Services professional). I had no doubt she'd kill to protect me!

However...After surgery, I was cautioned that I had to have someone with me for 24 hours.  Twenty-four hours? I asked. They were adamant and before I could leave the hospital they wrote it down and I had to sign the darn thing. I was stuck.

I had to have someone 'sit' me! Knowing very well why, and the potential complications from the procedure were very real but didn't usually occur, I tried to convince an inquiring friend that I would "be just fine." I knew I could dial 911 quite easily and I knew enough to know if I felt 'giddy,' or euphoric I'd best do that (hemorrhage symptom). However, my friend transported me home and soon was relieved by another friend who upon reading the Discharge Orders decided it was time for shift work!

She, too, is a formidable force to reckon with! Why do I attract such friends? My next sitter was the husband of a couple who've been friends since I moved to this city because his wife had school functions with their children.  I was feeling just fine (albeit increasingly sore, and stiff with pain taking on a new dimension). However, I was grateful for these "Now it's our turn to take charge, here!" people/friends.

Here I was not used to all this 'attention.' The next thing I knew, Shift Two was back and definitely going to spend the night. Well, I knew Shift Three wasn't going to, nor would his wife or I have encouraged it—but if it had meant no other choices for my protection, I have no fear they would have figured something out without me by this time.  Shift Three was a blessing (she always IS!)

By 3:30 a.m. I was ready for anything or absolutely anyone to be with me. I awoke feeling as though I'd been hacked in the upper chest with an axe (drugs wore off because I was taking minimum doses like a fool—"always stay ahead of the pain!"). Believe me, I woke her.

She fixed some green tea for the both of us, and we chatted while the pain killers helped me float off into oblivion and she re-arranged my Chakras or something like that. In the morning she commented that I uttered some moans off and on the rest of the night but since I was sleeping, she let me sleep.

I felt confidential because fortunately before every one of my operations, the anesthesia group at the hospital always met with me a few days before the scheduled procedure.  In fact, I became known as their 'frequent flier.'  One grows to love anesthesiologists. They were completely open with me, told me what they would do, when, and where i was going, and when.  I knew I'd be getting Versed first...and it's supposed to sedate you, until they get your into the OR, but each time I was 'out' by the time I was wheeled past the nurses station.  Vaguely, I recall, one time, being asked to "move over just a bit," on the OR table, but that was the only time.  I do remember my surgeon always there before and after, and the anesthesiologists (if I was hospitalized overnight(s), always visited me to see how I felt about the procedure, and the anesthesia.

After I "reacted" in the post-operative area, I was put into a chair, given some juice, and the nurse moved my arm a few times, I think to more check on my reaction to pain when it was moved, rather than concern about the mobility.

Discharged to home, with a prescription for pain, and friends. I was a bit 'dulled' but otherwise fine....until about 2 a.m. I ended up sitting on the sofa, supported with pillows to keep myself from moving, and waiting for the pain medication to take effect. A friend stayed up with me, and we watched TV, I think. Actually, I was uncomfortable for three days! My shoulder drove me nuts. Many others have not had that reaction.

REMOVAL OF THE PORT
Same thing, in reverse, however, I had not one bit of post operative discomfort!  By then, I'd also had the breast on that side removed!  There is a round scar there, like an area without pigment.  That's it.

RECOMMENDATIONS?
I would definitely recommend the chest port, as opposed to the "pic line (phonetic sounding)," because the line has to be 'rinsed' out frequently. The chest port has to be injected with an anticoagulant every six weeks, and that's no big deal. I don't think I had much more than two or three sessions maybe when it was no longer used.

I'm Losing My Hair                      Question yet?

Reviewed Wednesday, July 27, 2005