I Have the Power… Port

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This is the fourth in a series of blog posts about my experiences as a cancer patient and survivor. Before we begin, I want to be clear that all opinions expressed here are my own. Nothing that I say in these posts should be taken as medical advice. If you have any questions or concerns, you need to reach out to a licensed medical professional immediately.

So, before my chemotherapy could begin, I had to have a “port-a-cath” installed. I’d never heard of a Power Port before that day, and now that I know what they are, well…

My Power Port lives just under the skin on the upper right side of my chest, just below my clavicle. I had an outpatient surgical procedure to install it, and quite frankly, I still get the heebie jeebies when I think about that little tube running up to some blood vessel in my neck. Bleurgh.

The concept of a port is that it’s much easier to access than IV sticks. The nurse or technician can use a special needle (a PowerLoc needle) that slips into the circular area of the port. When they take the needle out, the material “heals” itself. Ports are much easier to use on patients who have to be frequently stuck or have IVs. The nurse or technician runs their fingers across your port site and feels those little bumps to be sure the needle is inserted in the correct place, draws whatever blood they need or infuses whatever solution or medicine is required, and then when everything is finished, they flush the port and use a heparin solution to keep it from clotting/clogging.

I’m a difficult IV stick, so I guess I probably in the grand scheme of things I’m grateful for the port. I get blood drawn at a minimum every three weeks, I still have chemo every three weeks, and if I didn’t have the port, y’all would probably think I was a drug addict for all of the marks I’d have up and down my arms. Also, after experiencing the pleasure of a blown IV when I was in the hospital (more on that in a later blog post), I guess it’s nice not to have the nurses have to work their way down my arms to my fingertips.

It’s also nice that it’s a PowerPort, because that means that there are several things that can be injected through it that I would have to have in a traditional IV if I had a “plain old port-a-cath”. I’ve only had to have a few IVs put in since having the port, and I know it’s saved me a lot of pain and digging as my blood vessels play “dodge the nurse”.

I don’t like the port, though, because it’s always there. I am a stomach sleeper and for the first several weeks, I couldn’t bear to sleep that way because I’d wake up sore from the port. I bump it all the time. For the first several months, I had this irrational fear that the catheter was going to pop out of the blood vessel and I’d bleed to death internally (the first few months after a cancer diagnosis tend to be a little more on the gloom and doom side of things, to be honest).

As it is, I can’t wait until this summer when I get to ring that bell with my last round of chemo and get this thing OUT of me. There’s also the reality that ports are not infallible. Nearly every time I’ve been at chemo, I’ve seen someone who is having issues with their port not wanting to give blood or being clogged. There are things they can do, but there are some times when the person has to have a new port installed. When you already feel like you live at medical facilities, “one more procedure” is not something you want to hear.

To learn more about “port-a-caths” and their use, check out these links:

Nehemiah 8:10 Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.