Damn Portia

A conversation between Dr Lynn—my surgeon and Dr Kotz—my oncologist—repeated back to me by Dr Lynn as she was removing Portia:

Dr Lynn:  I have NEVER had a port rupture.

Dr Kotz:  Well, I have never had a patient crash like she does and not been able to fix it.

Dr Lynn:  Well, that’s our girl!

            Of course she says this the day after she walks in the hospital room asking me what the hell I did to Portia and that I really was a pain in the ass ( I really do like her).  Let me explain….I had my 4^th chemo on April 9 and as we all know by now, my low white blood count week starts the following Friday.  I faithfully began taking my prescribed antibiotic and my temperature.  (I made a promise to myself that if my temp was 99 or above Sunday morning, I would not go to church; it was 99.6 so I stayed home—and I would like to point out this was the first Sunday I have stayed home—not too bad).  Anyway, I puttered around and went to work around 5 for about 15 minutes as I needed to do the deposit—don’t ask—and within that 15 minutes I knew I was in trouble.  I got home, took the temp and it was 101.  Lovely.  I left a message for the on call doctor and told Mom she probably needed to get ready to go to the ER.  I packed my bag – even remembering my sleep cap—which I never did name while I was waiting to see if I won the trip to the ER.  I did win and we got there around 7pm and luckily did not wait long to get to an exam room.  Good thing as I was sitting next to this guy who smelled like smoke and he was making me sick.  Of course the other option was to move across from him, but that guy either spilled his drink or wet himself and the fact that he did not care at all made me think it was not his drink.  (And not seeing a cup helped with my deduction as well).   I get in there and my nurse—Matt—nice guy—starts to prep Portia for the needle.  And she is stinging. And I am not talking a little sting… I am talking she is stinging… something she has never done.  He then looks and says “I see metal.”   Of course he can see metal. It is me after all and it is Sunday night so why the hell not?!  Damn Portia.   Of course that gets everyone (but me) worried as she is connected to the thing that is IN my heart—I forgot that part.  As we wait to see what is happening, it is getting later and later and Mom is thinking of the drive back home.  Finally, the ER Doc comes in and says I am on my way to the 10^th floor—Mom says good bye and is out the door within seconds—after all she did have an hour drive back.  I would also like to mention at this time she is saying to me “you better not tell people I abandoned you.”  For the record—my mother did not abandon me—but boy she was out of there in record time!  In fact, she was home before I even made it to the 10^th floor. 

            Okay—so I am finally in the room and I actually was able to sleep.  Not too bad.  But, because it was someone other than Dr K, I won the fluid drip.  I hate the fluid drip.  Dr K knows that I hate the fluid drip.  I am hooked up and have to drag that thing around with me.  He comes in and I am so excited to see him I forget to ask him about the drip. (Stupid, stupid, stupid.  So I am stuck with it until he comes by Tuesday am).  Anyway, my counts have started to go up, typical for me, but he tells me the port is coming out and he will think about what we will do.  Damn Portia.  Fast forward to Tuesday am and I am done with the stupid fluids.  I hate smelling like saline and I hate tasting the stuff and it makes everything taste bad.  So when Dr K walks in, I am telling him I didn’t care if I had to stay until Wednesday, but get rid of the fluids.  He kinda laughed and said no problem.  He then looks at my count shakes his head and says “Counts are normal; you can go after the port is removed.” Yay me!!!!!!!   He then informs me I am going to have to get a pic line for the last 2 treatments.  I had no idea what he was talking about, but I have to do what I have to do.  He leaves and Dr Lynn comes in to take out Portia.  I will not lie, she had to numb the area and that needle hurt like hell and she had to stick me a few times before she could take Portia out.  Whew, it was finally done and I could go home—took a while to get released and as Jen was wheeling me out, I said “see you in a few weeks” and she agreed.  For the record, Jen has been one of my nursing assistants all 3 times.   

            I am set to get my pic line on Friday, just in time for my 5^th chemo on Monday.  Hopefully it will not be too bad, but apparently again I will lose my left arm to some sort of contraption. But the end is in sight.  If all goes as planned (hahaha!!) my last chemo will be May 21.   Then the radiation will begin but so will the hair growth and I can’t wait to see what that looks like.  Cha cha chia!

            Oh and in case you were wondering about Portia, I have possession and I am thinking necklace.