Today, about five and a half months after starting chemo, they de-ported me! The lump that adorned my right shoulder is gone, along with the tube leading to my heart!
No more catching on tank top straps. No more bumps from dumbbells. I can cuddle my grandkids without their little heads landing on it!
It seemed like this day would never come.
Remembering the insertion operation , I opted for no sedation because it felt like a bad tequila drunk. Not that I would know what that feels like….LOL.
The surgical tech prepping me seemed nice enough, but he made it known that he really doesn’t like people. Think he chose the wrong profession?
Maybe he was like one of those psychos in the movies.
I wanted to slink away to a corner where he couldn’t reach me.
The surgeon was cool though.
He reminded me of a surfer dude, and I told him so. He said he gets that a lot and shared a story about another doctor who drowned while surfing, wearing a camera that recorded the whole thing.
Can you imagine this poor guy’s family being able to see his dying moments? That would be horrible!
Surgery went well and I was sent on my merry way with instructions to watch for infection and not to shower for ten days.
Here we go again!
It’s OK, though…if that’s the only thing standing between me and getting back to normal, I’ll manage. Piece of cake!
My happy day is somewhat overshadowed by fear. I was gonna say apprehension, but let’s cut to the chase and call it like it is. Fear.
Port removal means no more chemo. That’s a good thing, but this feeling of uncertainty nags at me like fruit flies around my wine glass. What if cancer comes back? What if it spreads? What if I still need the thing to be there?
I’ll play those cards if they’re dealt to me.
For now I’ll count my blessings and get on with living.
It’s summer! The sky is blue, the sun is shining warmly and I couldn’t ask for a better time to start embracing life again!