Port Removal Surgery!!

I'm going to be honest on this one: I was extremely nervous to have this done. I had way more time to think about this than I did for the beginning surgeries and biopsies so I think I built it up to be a bigger deal in my head. By the time I got into the hospital room I was shaking.

But really, it's just a simple procedure (so they say) so it can be done in the clinic with regular ole freezing shots.

Let me tell ya, I'd rather have the drugs in the outpatient surgery- those freezing shots hurt like hell. But maybe that's because I was getting them in the boob and neck area?! Yes, the boob. Glad no one told me that before hand!

They started off by bringing me into the room and then I was left alone in there for a few minutes before it all started. You know what that means right? Hospital selfies!

The room looked like a regular ole clinic room with a surgery table. No big deal.

The biggest downside to having those few minutes alone is you have way too much time to see this terrifying table of torture:

Yikes. I just snapped a picture of it and then didn't look too long. I was already nervous enough. My imagination was conjuring all these images of my veins coming out like spaghetti when they pulled the port out and feeling the incision and so on and so on. Oi vey. I said this in my earlier posts: there's no sense in pretending that you don't get scared when this stuff happens. That's not true. We can be fighters, we can be brave, we can be tough, we can take on the largest amounts of pain- but that doesn't mean we don't feel fear. The fear is half of what makes cancer patients fighters. We barrel on in the face of paralyzing fear because we know that in a battle the fear is half the fight.

I took one last picture of me and my port. Though you can't really see it. If you look closely you can- especially the little tube going up to my neck. Yuck- creeps me out. 

So after my selfie fun in the exam room- they came in and we got down to business. The nurse I had, Lorene, was absolutely amazing. As was the doctor, Dr. Morgan. So wonderful. They both had an awesome bedside manner and were very funny. The nurse grabbed my hand right before the first numbing shot and gripped it each time he gave me another one. I'm glad she did that because they were painful as all hell. Way worse than I thought they were going to be. Maybe it's because they're going into the boob area? Needles and boobs just really don't belong together. They both kept me talking during the whole procedure which I appreciated. Made it much easier to ignore the pain when you're talking. Major props to that medical technique. Altogether I got about 6-8 shots? I'm not even sure, I tried so hard to focus on the conversation instead of counting. They got easier as the numbing kicked in- I didn't even feel the last two.

All in all that part took barely ten minutes. Once it was numb they started. He told me he was doing the incision and I didn't feel a thing so that easy peasy. I could feel the tugging as he pulled the port out but it didn't hurt. Just felt very strange and off putting. When he pulled it completely out I could hear a disgustingly amazing squishing noise in my neck where it was threaded. It was like a Game of Thrones noise. I'd give it a rating of a 7 on a 1 to 10 grossness scale. Very cool and disgusting.

The entire procedure maybe took 30 minutes. It was super fast and not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. The shots were way worse than the actual procedure. I wouldn't be in a big hurry to have those ever again. But again, nothing that I couldn't bear. I've had way worse. (See: bone drills in your butt bones)

So here is the port in all its wonderful glory!

Yes, they let me keep it! Normally doctors don't let you keep things that come out of your body. (I'm looking at you, tonsil doctor) 

I'm not sure if I'm going to keep it forever- I might just toss it out. I just wanted a few pictures of it for the blog. See the little squishy parts? That's where the needles went in when they accessed it for chemo, fluids, blood work, antibiotics, blood transfusions- you name it. The white part is what was threaded into my vein up into my neck. Disgusting and cool, right?

So this is a happy day of celebration. Today the last and final step of my cancer journey is over. I am officially free. I am free from the leash (the port) that binded me to this horror. I might have mental wounds that will never heal and scars that will never fade but I am alive. I can take this experience and put it into perspective. I appreciate life more than I ever did. I appreciate the simplicity of feeling healthy more than I ever could have imagined. I relish the fact that I can eat sour food without unbearable pain (mouth sores) again. I am grateful that the cancer I did have was a curable and treatable one. I am so lucky that I am healed and on the road to recovery. 

And as a mother, this is even more incredible. The first words out of my mouth after my diagnosis were, "What will happen to Adrian?" Those were the scary moments before I knew any details besides it was cancer. Those dark moments of fear and despair. Now that my battle is over I can breathe easily again with the knowledge that I am healthy and fit. My son will not lose his mom. He will not have to see me sick again. He's seeing my health and active personality return in full force and I see the happiness in his eyes as he sees me run, play, and smile.

So today I fully feel the happiness of my remission. With the removal of that port it symbolized everything I have fought for, the battle I have won, and the conquering of the darkness that dared to taint my life.

Screw you cancer, I won.