Another Milestone

Hi Team,

I was going to try to just fly on by, but my introspective nature has once again stopped me in my tracks.  I get my port out tomorrow!  A few fun flashbacks for you.  I remember when my oncologist told me I'd be starting chemotherapy and I might want to consider a port.  I thought to myself (internally) 'that's not necessary.'  My chemo is going to be quick and I will be done before I know it.  Fast forward an f-ing week to me checked into the kaiser hospital taking half a liter of blood every 12 hours and stabbing me in every possible corner trying to find a good vein.  I felt like a pin cushion!  I was so happy to get discharged and once my white blood cells were high enough my first order of business was to get a port. 

Going in to get a port was the first time I'd been checked in to an actual hospital.  The nurse put an IV in me, then Dr. Fisch asked me to sign a form that said I had "informed consent" about this surgery - although he proceeded to inform me that he didn't really believe in informed consent.  To which I didn't ask any further questions because I wasn't sure I wanted to know.  This in retrospect was the first bad sign.  Then the nurse proceeded to ask me if I have an advance directive.  Ie. A legal document that tells people what to do with you if you either become a vegetable or die.  Let me tell you, if you DON'T have an advance directive, or like me, didn't have any clue what that was, it is not reassuring to be asked that 2 minutes before they put some serious drugs in you and start cutting.  That said, they drugged me up with a great drung called versed which is supposed to be an anti-anxiety and amnesia-enducing drug.  Unfortunately, I remember.  As the dr. first cut into me, I could feel it, and I cried.  And I remember the nurses gathering around and giving me another few doses of versed, probably enough to sedate a grizzly bear, and me dozing off into a weird state of semi-consciousness.  I woke up as I was getting moved off the operating table, and told them, Thank you for fixing that - that was really bad at first but you did a good job.  They said, I'm glad  you remember it that way.

Fast forward to about a month ago in Dr. Langer's office, my surgeon, I was there for a check up and she says - now that you're done with all your IV treatment, you can get your port out.  Just schedule a regular appointment in my office and I'll take it out.  Now, please note that a port is a small peice of metal and silicone in my chest with a tube going into my jugular vein for administering IV medication.

I said to Dr. Langer.  "Ok, uhm, just in your office?  I don't need to go to the hospital?" She says - no, it will be fine we'll just do it here.  To which I say, ok here is what I'm envisioning, you tell me what you think.  Dr. cuts open my chest and pulls my port out of my jugular vein and my neck goes spurting blood all over the doctor's office, Kill Bill style.  She said, don't worry - that's not going to happen.  Your body will clot it, and plus, you've been through far worse.  Famous not-encouraging words.  Although I guess I appreciate the effort.

Anyway, tomorrow is another milestone.  I'm excited and scared.  It's amazing to me that even after everything I've been through, I am still scared of something relatively little like this - and that I somehow think I am just going to take a bus there, 2 valium to get through, and a cab home.  Thank God for my friends that call me out on my bullshit and make me ask for support.  You would think by now it would come more naturally!  Either way, its exciting stuff because it's one more step to putting all this behind me.

Love,
Amy