The Hill I'm Willing to Die on...

Flash back to October 2, 2024.  I'm getting my port in.  I'm on the surgical floor of MGH West in Waltham.  I am sedated, a medical professional makes 2 incisions, one where the port is placed in my right chest area and one where a tube is inserted into a vein in my neck.  You can see the tube over my collarbone.  It's been very effective, even though I hate it.  It's a constant reminder.  

Flash back to yesterday.  I receive a call from Interventional Radiology to schedule my port removal.  I know from prior conversations with my medical oncologist that this procedure is done WHILE THE PATIENT IS AWAKE, WITH JUST LOCAL NUMBING AGENTS.  WTF?  No thank you.  The nurse explains that again yesterday and I say 'no'.  Nope.  You sedated me to put it in, and you will sedate me to take it out.  I will throw up if I feel anyone cut into me, or any tugging or pulling while it's being taken out.  I'm pretty sure I will scream.  I've been super accommodating through this entire chapter of my life.  But this, this is the hill I will die on.  I am NOT getting the port out without sedation.  

The nurse says she needs to discuss with the medical team and will call me back.  

Flash back to this morning.  She calls me back.  She has discussed it and gotten approval for me to be sedated.  It's scheduled for Thursday, September 18th.  I'm thrilled.  Joyous even.  I cannot wait to get this device out of me.  Seatbelts hurt.  Sleeping on my stomach hurts. I can't wear certain bras.  Cross body bags can only be used on the left side.   Granted, my arms aren't torn up by chemo and infusions.  I can't imagine my veins would have handled a 9 hour day.  But good riddance and I hope to never have one again.  xo J