Bye Bye Port

There's something wrong with my port. It's oozing blood and yucky stuff--even after being on a strong dose of antibiotics for ten days. I don't know what I was thinking would happen; I just knew that something needed to change.

So into Dr. Wendy's I go and back to the nurses station. They're immediately concerned also, and involve Dr. Wendy. Her response after one two-second glance? "Okay. That's infected. I can't do anything with an infected port. Time to rip that one out."

Out? But I need my port. My veins have always been horrible before; now they're downright nonexistent. What now?

I'm whisked off to Timpanogos Regional Hospital once again. Yup, it's me. I'm back. It's the same nursing staff that was there about ten weeks ago when the port was originally placed. And they remember me.

It is NOT a good thing to be this well known in local medical circles!

"So we're taking it out already?"
"Yup. It got infected."
"Darn. That doesn't happen often."
"Leave it to my body."
"Still don't want any sedation?"
"Right!"
"Okay. Here we go."

A short thirty minutes later, no more port. I'm actually kind of sad because I know how much it helped to have it. Now I'm not sure what we're going to do with chemo. This could be interesting.