Port Wine, Hold the Wine

Alright so I’ve safely delivered my daughter…now to get a port installed.

Port-a-cath, port catheter, chemo port. They all mean the same thing. A small device is going to live under my skin and allow chemotherapy drugs direct access to my heart. How noticeable is this going to be? Will I feel it? What about holding my newborn against my chest?

After a 45-60 minute procedure, I leave the OR with a new buddy below my left collarbone—his name is PowerPort. I’m relieved to see a dressing, I’m not ready to look at this intruder yet. Follow-up care instructions were pretty simple: the dressing could come off in about 24 hours and I could shower in about 48.

Ouch! I guess I shouldn’t stretch my left arm that far out & back.

Ouch! Baby girl’s head against my chest might as well be a bowling ball.

Time to peel off the dressing…okay it’s a bit swollen…ick what’s this wound glue crap? But okay, PowerPort isn’t too noticeable. It looks a bit like a thick bottle cap, let’s see how it is when swelling goes away.

Dare I touch it? Just a quick tap to get familiar.

Hmm…maybe it’s more like a soda bottle cap. Not totally scary.

Fast-forward a couple weeks—swelling’s gone, and this disc is a bit more visible. But I don’t think anyone would notice if they didn’t know.

Alright fine, I guess this relationship will work out.