Lump & Bump

I lost another part of me Friday. I decided to have my port removed. It was a difficult decision for a number of reasons. The first being "what if the cancer returns and I would have to have another one reinstalled". The second was odd because the port had become a part of me. I often found myself reaching to touch it just to make sure it and I were still here. We had both gone through a long journey and my port was the link to reaching my cancer (and it eventual destruction). On the other hand, its presence meant that every month I needed to return to the doctor to have it flushed so it would remain clean and clear. That was an inconvenience but oddly enough I will miss my regular visits to the Cancer Center. The center was often as much a source of comfort as it was a place of treatment. I always gained perspective when surrounded by others who were travelling similar journeys. Dr. Dubovsky said "take it out". It is plastic and when not used can only create problems. I know that some people have kept theirs in for as long as ten years. In the end I decided it was time to remove the foreign body from my domestic body. So I went to the St. Joseph's "Lump and Bump" room and my old friend, Dr. Daneker, removed my port of call. It was a procedure that was performed with a local shot and involved a scalpel, an electronic caulderizer (sp?), stitches, and super glue. I also had a patch attached to me that led to a machine that literally grounded me so I would not be electrocuted by the caulderizer. Removing the patch was the most painful part.

I saved the port as a souvenir of my travels. I am hoping it does not become part of a collection. Maybe Cat will include it in one of her pieces. Dr. Daneker said if she does he wants proper credit for assembling the port.


So I am now portless and for the next two years I am on a six month schedule for scans and visits. In April I will celebrate my two year anniversary since my diagnosis and surgery. So in the words of Batman's nemesis "Riddle me this": What sounds like an instrument of torture but in the right hands is a life saving solution? ....................................................... A Whipple! And I had one.