Yesterday I had my port removed.
It feels so weird saying that. It signals an end to active treatment. I felt like I'd never reach this point. Now here I am. It's a momentous occasion. I am happy to be rid of it. I hated it. But I also feel this deep anxiety.
What if I'm not really cancer free? How can they be sure? What if cancer cells migrated and are growing elsewhere in my body between the time I finished chemo and now? It's not like I've had a full body MRI or PET scan since right after chemo. What if I still needed it? What if I need it again in the future? As much as I hated it, it became a safety blanket to me. I grew use to it. I grew use to seeing my oncologist and having blood draws every 3 weeks. I grew use to that level of care. Now those frequent appointments are done, my port is removed, and I'm tossed back into the World. I feel this overwhelming expectation to get back to life like none of this ever happened. Like this experience hasn't had the most profound effect on my life.
People think the chapter closes because active treatment is complete and I'm declared "no evidence of disease." I should be happy and smiling and feel like I have a new lease on life. I should be getting on with life and getting back to the old me.
And I am. I do. I want to. But it's also not that easy. Human emotions are complex. I am happy, and I am wanting to move forward. But in my mind, I'm still there, right in the middle of all the trauma this cancer journey has caused. And I don't know how to move past it. Healing mentally and emotionally will take far more time and work than healing physically. I wish people could understand that. And there is no getting back to the "old me." Not anymore. My life has now been broken into two segments....life before cancer, and now life after cancer. There is no going back to the person I was before all this happened. I can only try to find a way to move forward, heal in some way, and hopefully become a better, stronger version of myself. But it's going to take time. A lot of time. And progress isn't linear. It's complex and messy and hard.
I don't expect anyone who hasn't been through this to ever understand.
Anyway. I was really nervous about the port removal process. It was done in clinic under a local anesthetic. It all started fine, but quickly became painful. Typically you cut the skin, then cut the stitches that hold the port in place, and simply pull it out. However, after cutting the stitches holding mine in place, my surgeon couldn't pull it out. My body had grown and built up so much scar tissue around the port that she had to cut away at me for quiet some time and all that pressure and tugging and pulling was pretty painful and caused a lot of trauma to the area. My adrenaline was pumping and my nerves were shot. I felt pretty yucky. After a good 10 minutes of working at it, she was finally able to free it, pull it out, and stitch me up.
I am in SO much pain. Just as much as when I got the port placed. I didn't realize how much pain I'd be in. Why don't they ever tell you that part? And why don't they ever give you anything for the pain? I could hardly sleep at all last night and any movement of my right arm pulls on the area and sends sharp pains shooting. So I'll be taking it easy for the next couple of days. I'm hoping to heal up nicely with minimal scarring.
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