Wish upon a Power Port

Do you know what a Power Port is?  It is not anywhere near as exciting as it sounds. If you are not familiar with these little devices, you should consider yourself very lucky because that probably means that neither you nor someone you care about needed one. They are also called port catheters and they are used primarily for people who need chemotherapy drugs or have need to frequently access the veins. The port is placed under the skin (usually in your chest) and is attached to a thin tube that is threaded into the superior vena cava vein above your heart. They make it so much easier to get infusions, draw blood, or be injected with contrast solutions for CT or PET scans. They help protect the skin and tissues from potential leakage of caustic chemotherapy drugs, and they also mean you don't get poked in the arm a million times by a nurse trying to find a good vein to use for an IV.  They make infusion day so much easier.

But they are also a huge annoyance. The seat belt runs right across where the port usually goes and rubs against the skin.  You can't really wear certain types of necklines or the port is exposed and the bump under the skin is not particularly attractive. But mostly, it is a daily reminder that something is wrong with you. I had my first port back in 2007 during my first go-round with cancer, and I was so glad when I was finally able to be rid of it after my treatments were done. When I had to get another one after the cancer had spread, I had to face the realization that this time there would probably not be an end to treatment and the port would be a permanent part of my life. I wished I could get rid of it, but didn't see any way that would happen since I couldn't imagine my doctor being OK with me removing it.

But sometimes we get what we wish for in the most unexpected ways. 

The port catheter tube that goes into the heart is just underneath the skin and right by your neck jugular vein. They have to make a little incision by your neck so that they can guide the tube into a vein. The incision heals, of course, but it's hard for it not to be brushed against all the time and irritated.  I am guessing they also don't really expect people who have Power Ports to be out backpacking a lot. Unfortunately, with all of my activity this year, my incision site started to open up and the tube became exposed.

It's kind of a big problem when a tube that goes directly into a major heart vein is exposed to a world full of germs.  My doctor declared that it needed to come out as quickly as possible. And since my cancer is staying stable, and I don't need chemotherapy drugs, I would NOT have to replace it.  My wish was coming true!

I still go to the clinic every three weeks for infusions of Herceptin and Perjeta, the two drugs that are instrumental in keeping me stable and preventing the cancer from growing. That isn't going to change anytime soon unless something new comes along or those drugs stop working for me. But my port?  I had it removed today! Yes, it means I will have to have my arm poked a bazillion times, but I decided I would rather have a few minutes of annoyance every three weeks than the daily annoyance of a port.

Psychologically, it is also really wonderful to have the port gone.  It's hard to really see yourself as a healthy person when you have a constant physical reminder visible every time you look in a mirror or drive your car, or change your shirt. And we are so much a product of our thoughts.  I have been learning over these past two and a half years that the body achieves what the mind believes. If I place limits on myself and what I can do, that doesn't really serve me in any way. 

My last scans showed that everything was stable. This is fantastic news, and I don't mean to diminish this at all because it really is exactly what we all want to see.  But I can't help believing that there is possibility for more. I can't help but believe that there could be a day when I get to read a report that doesn't just say I am stable, but that there is no sign of any cancer anymore.  I know this is rare. I know this is unlikely, even. But we must believe that something is possible in order to achieve it.  If we don't believe it is possible, we won't even try to wish for it. Yes, wishes don't always come true. Sometimes, we are disappointed.

But sometimes wishes do come true.  And I don't have a port anymore.