Goodbye Maurice, you will not be missed. As Dr. Pahnke told me "today is a big day, it symbolizes that everything is officially over and it is time to start living your life again". It feels so good to no longer have that port in my chest. It coming out was a lot easier then I thought it was going to be. When I got to Dr. Pahnke's office this morning I was so nervous. Ryan and my good friend/favorite nurse Dawn were there. We were told that only one person could be back with me while the procedure was being done. I chose to have Dawn stay with me, she is very calming, she has been the only person to ever touch the port so it was perfect that she was there when it came out. Not to mention that Ryan doesn't handle blood and cutting that well, lets not forget what happened to him during my chest tube insertion. The whole procedure took about 20 minutes from start to finish.
Today when I got to see Dr. Pahnke again I was reminded of why I love him so much. He walked in the room and put a hospital looking OR jacket on over his clothes and I asked why he was putting that on, he said "I don't want to get blood on my tie", not too comforting doc! He took one look at my chest and said "WOW! Look at those, did you show them off to the neighbors yet", now remember this is the man that loves to say inappropriate things, however, him saying those things are a great distraction to what he is really doing. He got out his needles to numb the area and I started shaking. I have been stuck so many times over this past year but needles still make me queasy. The needles going in were the worst part of the entire ordeal. They stung really bad. When it was time to cut me open they had Dawn move over to my right side and she held my hand the whole time. I didn't feel him cutting me or anything, he numbed the area very good. I did feel some pressure in my chest as he moved the port around and cut scar tissue, when he pulled it out of me he held it above my face and said " here it is, I gave a you a purple one". It was fairly gross. He then said he was going to pull the tubing out and I might feel it moving through, he was right. It wasn't painful just an odd burning/traveling sensation. When he pulled the tube out he said "and here is the catheter", I was expecting it to be much longer so I said " that's all it is" well to no ones surprise his very appropriate response was "good thing I am not married to you, that's at least 14 inches", I love his humor. Apparently I was bleeding quite a bit, he kept applying a lot of pressure on the artery and he did a lot of stitching. When he was finally done with everything he sat me up, stood next to me, held my hand, and rubbed my back for about 5 minutes. He was talking to me about Disney World and about how 1 year ago I was just starting this journey. He said he was proud of me and he was happy it was finally over for me. Those are the little things that he does that makes you realize that he is doctor that is in his profession for the right reasons. He really cares deeply about his patients, he always takes the time to show you how much you mean to him. After I got dressed I took a picture of the port with my phone to show Ryan. He and Dawn both agreed that if was in there he would have been on the floor.
Dawn was a great person to have with me, she talked to me during the whole procedure, she never let go of my hand, and she made me feel safe. I will never be able to say how much she means to me, she has been there every step of the way with me. She got me through so much and has continued to help me emotionally through all this. She definitely chose the right career path, she is so caring and compassionate, I am so glad that I get to have her as my nurse/coworker/friend.
They said all this would be one year out of my life. Today it was exactly one year since I had the port put in. Everything came full circle today and I am glad to say GAME OVER!! Amy won :)
So I was reading your blog, and A: You're probably right, if I was in that room the floor and I may have become good friends and B: I really got thinking about this past year. I got thinking about the feelings and emotions that I/we had the evening of March 24, 2011. I got thinking about what our family was like leading up to that day and what it has become since. I got thinking about what cancer has taken from us and what it has given to us. Before that day I could probably name 10 people you work with and now have the pleasure of knowing probably 80% of MOHC, and most of them on a personal level. It has truly been an incredible journey (good and bad), but your last two words of this post sum it up... "Amy won".
ReplyDeleteThat's all that matters. That's all that matters for you, for me, for our children, for our families, for the wonderful people that you work with, for our friends... "Amy won".
As I read the first paragraph and started thinking about all that stuff, I was looking at the screen and read the line at the very top of the page. "At the age of 31 I was diagnosed with IDC (invasive ductal carcinoma). I am currently recieveing 6 rounds of chemotherapy, followed by a double mastectomy and lastly radiation. It is going to be a long journey but in the end I will be a survivor!" It is exactly, to a T, what this past year has been. You predicted it a year ago, "in the end I will be a survivor!". You set a goal and you saw it through, and Amy, in the end you are a survivor. Game over. Amy won.
Even though these are just song lyrics, they mean something more than that to you and me. So I'll type them one last time. "You and I know what it's like, to be kicked down, forced to fight. But tonight, we're alright so hold up your light, let it shine."
I love you.