The Long Day: PET Scan and Port Placement Surgery

Today was the longest day of cancer crap so far. UGH.

So one of the things that sucked about today actually started the night before. For both of my appointments, I had to fast. No food or water. So after 4:30 a.m. this morning, I couldn't have anything to eat or drink.

I had to be at my PET Scan at 8:15. You may be wondering, "What is a PET Scan?" That's a great question. Click here because I feel too lazy to explain!

After paperwork and paying $965 (which is after insurance!), I went back with a technician dude who gave me an IV. They put radioactive glucose in your veins so they can see what's going on better. The guy missed my vein in my arm, which was weird because I've heard I have great veins, and had to put it in my hand. Oh well. After that, I was to sit in a nice chair and be as still as possible. The cancer cells are supposed to eat the radioactive glucose to show where metabolic activity is going on, so you're not supposed to move so you don't create any extra metabolic activity (I think...). So I got those nice heated blankets ( I LOVE THOSE!) and leaned back for an hour.

Then they came to get me. The machine is another big donut tube thing. They got me situated on my back and told me to hold still. The tech asked if I wanted updates on the time, and I said it would be nice to know when we were half done and 3/4 done. I closed my eyes for it, even though I wasn't sure if I had to or not. I was tired! And hungry! Anyway, the bed I was on moved in and out of the tube, and that, along with the hunger factor, made me pretty motion sick. It only took about 30 minutes or so, and when I was done, they had a little gift bag for me with a book of quotations, snacks, and little bottle of water. Which I couldn't have until AFTER my port placement. ARRR!

The PET Scan finished on time, which was great. We had plenty of time to get to Denver for my port placement. I had to call to pre-register on the way down, which proved more difficult than originally assessed because my cell phone kept cutting in and out of service. Once that was done, though, I was able to just waltz through the hospital (Rose Medical) straight back to radiology.

We made it on time, which was a big relief. But in the end, it wasn't that big of a deal because the surgeon was like an hour and a half late. When I got there, they set me up with an IV. They dripped some saline in for a while, and then when it was closer to time for my surgery they but in a bag of antibiotics. I had to wait in a little bed for what seemed like forever, but I suppose it was probably only two hours or something.

The surgeon finally showed up and explained a little about the procedure. He showed me what the port looks like, and here's a photo for you folks at home. I was going to be given a combination of a narcotic (wheeee!) and a pain killer, which would make me nice and loopy but not unconscious. Some people sleep, and some don't. I was sorta in the middle.

So they wheeled me off in my little bed down to the surgical room. It was a weird little room with a big X-ray machine. I had to switch from my nice warm bed to a cold, hard bed. They started to get me ready by putting on a funny papery hat on me, a mask and oxygen tubes up my nose. I also had a heart rate monitor and a blood pressure squeezer on me. On my left arm, where the port was to be placed, they cleaned the area with some blue stuff and put drapes all over me.

When the doctor got there, they gave me drugs. I kinda remember them asking me how I was doing, and I said something like, "I'm fine, but the ceiling is doing something really weird." It was moving and melting and sliding around. Maybe I should do drugs more often... Anyway, the doctor had to anesthetize the area with lidocaine, which meant more needle injections in my skin. But after that, I couldn't feel too much. I think I slept for a bit, but I woke up before they were done and asked some questions. The doctors sorta ignored me and sorta answered, which was annoying. It hurt when they were pushing in the port (at least I think that was what they were doing). And I could feel him putting in the stitches; not pain, just the feeling of the thread going through my skin.

I'm now realizing that there was a chunk of this surgery that I don't remember at all... darn drugs... so maybe click here to learn more about ports.

When they were done, I had to switch back to my bed with the wheels so they could wheel me back. I have no idea why, I think it was probably the medicine, but I started crying and couldn't stop. I was shaking really hard and felt weak, woozy and cold. And the tears just kept coming. The nurse was a little alarmed, but I told her I was OK and I didn't know why I was crying. She thought maybe it was the sight of my arm, which admittedly was a bit disturbing because it was all scary looking. Anyway, I was glad that my parents had gone for a cruise around the hospital so they wouldn't see me upset. Not that they'd mind or anything, it's just that I wasn't upset, I was just somehow acting upset. WEIRD.

When I got settled in, I asked for something to eat because I was starving. It was probably 3:30 or something and I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before due to all the fasting. I got a little cup of peaches and some cranberry juice. It was delicious. I told the nurse that my arm really hurt because it did, and she said maybe I could have some percocet. I thought that sounded great. So she told the doctor, but he said no, just Tylenol. Booo. He came over and I told him it hurt. He said I bled more than usual during the surgery. Whatever. He said to try to move my arm around, and I did so weakly BECAUSE IT HURT. And he said to move it around more, showing me by bending his arm all the way up and down. I tried, but got maybe halfway and it really hurt. I started to really dislike this guy because I told him my arm hurt and he told me to do something that made it hurt more. How hard would it have been to just give me a little extra pain killer? Anyway, he said Tylenol would be OK, but nobody gave me any at the hospital before I left.

After a bit, the nurse was wondering where my parents were, and I reminded her that they were waiting out in the other waiting room and that she had said she'd tell them when I got back. She remembered and went to get them. They seemed happy to see me and didn't know I had already been there for about half an hour. I showed them my nasty arm.

The nurse gave me some discharge and aftercare information. We got me all put back together and got the hell out of dodge.

The car ride home was kinda rotten because my arm was aching and my dad kept talking and talking and talking. I was grumpy because it had been a long day and I don't deal especially well with pain. I snapped at him, and I think I hurt his feelings, which I apologized for, but all I wanted to do was sleep in the car so I wouldn't have to feel my arm hurting.

When we got back, I took a nap and woke up feeling better. Since my brother was there, we all went out for dinner, and that was nice. I just made sure everyone knew that I couldn't have one of those 2-hour dinners because I wasn't up to it. But dinner was good.

Since I'm writing this way after it happened, I should note that my arm was really sore for about three days-- I couldn't put my own hair back or wash my hair with both hands for that long. But after three days I was able to use my arm a lot more. The surgical glue stayed on for a long time... there's still a little stuck on and it's been two weeks. And the bruising is still there too, but that should fade someday soon...

What a day. Glad it's in the past. But now I have my port and I'm ready to chemo!