Oh, holy crap sticks

For the first time in nine years I have no venous access. I am 99.9% sure that my port has infused it’s last bolus. I have a portogram* scheduled later this week which will no doubt snuff out the last vestige of hope that it can be salvaged.

Oh, holy crap sticks.

Almost every human ably manages life without readily accessible semi-permanent venous access. I am not one of the overwhelming majority. I am the kind of person that reacts to this situation in a remarkably similar way to how I would react to the news that the end of the world is, in fact, nigh.

GIF of Kermit the frog having an anxiety attack.

Actual footage of me realising that my port may have died.

Without a port medical staff cannot get any fluids into me, or any blood out of me. I may as well be composed entirely of kevlar. This is a major problem because my bowel is about as well behaved as a toddler that is given toast for breakfast because they asked for toast for breakfast but then inexplicably decided that they actually hate toast with a vengance in the short time it took for their parent to prepare said toast. When my small bowel chucks a toddler-worthy tantrum the only thing that can tame it is pharmaceutical drugs and fluids. Lots of ’em. Administered intravenously. Without IV access things end about as well for me as they did for Jyn and Cassian in Rogue One.

Cue: more time off work to keep my body functioning. Because, why would I need to actually turn up to my place of work and, you know, do any work?

Cue: negotiating with my health care team.

Doctor: We’d usually admit you for a week or so to get your lung function up before the surgery and then keep you for a few days to make sure you’re recovering well.

Me: Or, I could have day surgery instead. What a great idea! Yeah, let’s lock that in.

Cue: obsessing about every little gurgle emanating (or not, which is actually way more concerning) from my small bowel.

Yes, indeed. Oh. Holy. Crap. Sticks.

* A portogram is a fancy scan they can do where they try to inject contrast into the port to see if it is blocked, the tube is kinked or split, there is a fibrin sheath preventing fluid flow, or another problem.


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