The Comedy in Getting My Port Inserted

My access journey has been a collection of stories all on its own - it has not been a pleasant journey either.

The beginning of my port journey

When I went in for my radical cystectomy, my doctor wanted me to have 2 IVs. The staff couldn't even get one line in me even with using the special sonogram equipment. It was unbearable, painful, and traumatic.

Finally, they called the anesthesiologist in, and he decided he was going to give me a central line. It wasn't a discussion or a question. It was a statement — more pain and trauma.

To top it off, I ended up getting a bacterial infection from it just a few days after surgery, so it was ripped out and replaced with a PICC line.

Getting my power port

Two months later, I was finally discharged home with no lines. I momentarily got to "forget" I had cancer just long enough to celebrate my birthday and Thanksgiving.

The following week, after more traumatic experiences with getting blood drawn and CT scans with injected contrast, I finally was going in to get my power port.

I was looking forward to the procedure, but the hilarity that ensued I could have never predicted!

Wisked into surgery

My friend took a day off work to take me to the procedure as I could not drive myself. I was going to be given anesthesia. I waved to her as I whooshed by on my way to the reserved OR. I wish I could have video recorded what came next.

When a power port and the twins don't mix

When I arrived in the OR, the staff greeted me. A woman to my left introduced herself. She immediately started mauling my breasts. Pushing the girls together and up and then smashing them down.

As she did this, she was sporadically explaining to me what they needed to do and why she was becoming so familiar with my bodacious boobs.

Divide and conquer

Another woman must have realized what a gigantic task this was and came over to help from the right side. While ignoring me almost completely, they decided what they needed to do.

The woman on the right held me with one hand and reached for a massive roll of tape with the other as I watched. The woman on the left then grabbed my left hand and forcefully deposited it on my left breast, saying, "Here! Hold that right there!"

I vaguely remember saying something along the lines of wishing I had the situation on video as it was happening. However, I could be making that up. After all, I did have anesthesia for the procedure!

Next, they used the tape to keep my ladies in place during the procedure. As they were doing that, I was given the anesthesia and gently slipped away into La-La Land.

Healing from my port procedure

I was still taped up when I woke. The staff left me that way until I could put a bra on as I needed the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders to keep the ladies hoisted up and pretty much in place for a couple of days as I healed from having the port inserted.

I was in a fair amount of pain, but it was more bearable than the previous pain from my radical cystectomy.

My friend was ecstatic to see me and treated me to a meal at Bob Evan's afterward before taking me home and hanging with me through the afternoon. I'm forever grateful for her companionship and assistance.

Finding humor in those moments

Still, the series of events in the OR are the most memorable of the day. Even nearly 5 years later, it still cracks me up and makes me wish I could have made a video of it!

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