At the port alone

I haven’t taken care of myself and pushed important medical stuff to the side for later. Walking into the clinic today was a harsh reminder of what can and will happen. I was naive to believe I’d sail right through, though. Such is my life.  My port flush didn’t go as planned. The return of blood was absent. If there isn’t a return, it’s an indication of a problem and my doctor being the overly cautious one, will send me to the hospital for an emergency port removal. After hanging upside down several times and dilation meds given, and several draws and a few hours and tears of panic, finally a return is given. I’ve never been so glad to see blood flow out of my chest as I was today. My favorite nurse was both supportive and motherly as she scolded me. She orders labs and I quickly remind her that the doctor hasn’t ordered labs. “Hush. Doctors don’t run this show.”  Blood pressure is not good, and I’m anemic. My whites are slightly off. I don’t mention my chest fluid or the fact that I haven’t eaten in a few days. She seems appeased momentarily by my enthusiasm. I have plans and goals and a meeting with the patient navigator. 
Standing outside the navigator’s office I’m not thinking too clearly. I’ve just hung upside down several times and been given meds that make me sick. But I walk in and nail that meeting like a cheap hooker. I get in the car and want to call him but I don’t. 
Texts and phone calls go unanswered. What am I going to say? Which truth would you like? What lie shall I tell today? My favorite lie is “I’m fine”. My favorite truth is “I’m tired”. 

Right now I’m trying desperately to get my life in order and take some time for myself. Both of these are needed but they make me feel selfish and alone simultaneously. Can I do this? Can I get my life in order and look back with pride? Can I carve out a new beginning alone? My neck is so bare and my chest squeezes tight. 

I look at today, and the disaster of yesterday, and think that maybe my life is just meant to have extreme ups and downs. 

I can only wake up tomorrow morning and put my feet on the floor. 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s