I did it. I’m still here. I’m alive. And today will be yet another milestone day for me.
It’s hard to believe it’s been less than a year after being diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer called adenocarcinoma.
Less than a year since a complicated, seven-hour-long surgery to remove two tumors that had overcome my small intestines, and not to mention six months of chemotherapy… today, I’m having my mediport removed.
Rewind, since most of you might not be familiar with what this is.
A mediport is a device that is used for chemotherapy and other blood-related work to serve as the primary spot in the body where blood is drawn, and medicine is infused.
It is used for patients that will require repeated therapies so that the skin and flesh on the arms aren’t constantly used.
It was surgically implanted into my upper right chest and is like a receptacle that has a tube connected to it.
That tube was carefully inserted into my jugular vein and during my chemo treatments, all of my blood work, chemo infusions and other injections were done through the mediport.
Some people called it my “badge of courage.” I jokingly referred to it as the receptacle of the poison that healed me. I remember during my treatments– I actually changed around my chemo schedule so I could go to see the Greek singer Paola, who was performing at melrose Ballroom in Astoria.
I was backstage and she saw something popping out of my shirt. She lovingly touched my chest and said– “Is that a mediport?” It kind of freaked me out for a few seconds but when she started crying and telling me that she took care of her father, who died a few years earlier of cancer– we all just hugged and cried.
A few weeks ago, my oncologist gave me the green light to have it removed.
It’s a milestone day for me and despite the fact that it involves minor surgery, some anesthesia and going under the knife one more time– I’m 100% ok with it.