I’m a Cyborg

So I got my port placed this week.

They said it would be in & out, so big whoop. You would even be really put under for it. Might be a little sore but take Tylenol...

Yeah, um, it SUUUUCKED.

They’re just not honest about these things. Thank god for the Facebook young-women-with-breast-cancer group I’m in, where I was able to ask the group if this level of pain is normal. 20 people replied with a resounding OH HELL YES; THEY LIE!

So it’s not me. This was pretty terrible—worse recovery than my lumpectomies & node removal, only with no strong pain killers.

Here’s what they do:

Here’s how I looked coming out of surgery: not too bad, if I do say so myself.

Then the sedation wore off and the severity of the whole thing hit me. Holy crap. What did I just go through? Why does it feel like a zombie bit my chest, and when I stand up, why do I get the sensation as though someone plucked my jugular like the string of an upright bass? Why can’t I turn my head to the left, or look up, or breathe deeply or sneeze/blow my nose without shooting pain through my chest?

“It’ll be a simple procedure.”

You can really tell the difference between the touch and technique of a talented surgeon and that of a more turn & burn approach. I'm not complaining–love ya, MGH–but yeah.

So after dealing with the initial pain of it, it began to feel like the thing was poking me in the heart, internally. It felt like the catheter was too long and was jabbing me in the valve. Turns out, it could have been. I took a hot bath and kindof pulled on the thing as much as I could to try and lengthen it a bit, and took a beta-blocker to stop my heart from going crazy like it had been. They still want to "do a study" of it to see if they need to redo it, but for now as long as I'm not having a heart attack, they think I'm fine.

Here it is a few days out, just to get a sense of the bruising. This thing was intense. (The flowers are for cleavage-modesty so I don't offend any delicate sensibilities.)

The ring is where they made a pocket under the skin to make room for the port. Hence the bruising.

I feel like for some of the things we have to go through they give you all the warning in the world and then it's totally not bad and you're like "wow, that was way easier than I was imagining." Then there are things like this, where you ask about it and they don't really say much other than it's "routine" or something. Then you go through it, and it's really, really tough. Like can't sleep, can't sit straight up, can't breathe deeply, can't lie down on your right side, alarming heart palpitations kind of bad.

So from now on, I know that when people are telling me something's bad, I'm kindof prepared. When they tell me that something is routine, that's when it's time to be nervous...

UPDATE:

So I never published this blog. I'm a big old slacker. I forgot about it.

But here's an update before I do:

The port healed a bit. They still want to do a study. It's no longer making me feel like I'm having a 3-day heart attack but it looks like it popped out a little bit.

The scars are just red lines & dots. The port popped out a bit on one side, so it's lop-sided and kindof awkward. I still think it was too long and that it came out a little bit, and that it should probably have been re-seated, but that's seriously the last thing I need right now.

Chemo starts in a week and I'm at the end of two weeks of hellishness that I'll explain in the next blog, which I might call "The Uncomfortable Blog," because it's going to be one of the most vulnerable pieces I'll ever write, but that's to come later.

For now, I don't know.

I'll guess I'll keep calm and port on.

(I know, I know. I think I just pulled my cliché muscle.)