Have you ever seen the movie “Saw”?
About two weeks ago, I got a call from my surgeon’s office. “Would you like to come in and get your Port removed? We got a fax from your doctor and all we need is a date.” I made the appointment for November 2nd at 4:15pm. It was IN-OFFICE. As confused as I was, I just went on with it.
I walked in there with my best friend, Rachel, on one side and my dad on the other. Trying to keep my shit together, I signed the consent form and went on the get changed into my gown. The doctor came in, explained that all he was going to do was numb the site a little and I won’t feel a thing. Boy, was he wrong.
I felt the first needle go right into my scar and then the second and the third. “Do you feel anything? Is this sharp?” (While he was poking me with a knife) “YES”, I cried in pain. “That’s funny because I’m not touching you at all. You must be telling a story.” And then, before I even let out a breath, I felt the knife slowly cut along my already scared up chest. And again, I felt his drag the knife a second time, cutting deeper and deeper to find my port.
“I’m so lightheaded”, I screamed. Almost 2 minutes later, I felt them put a wet rag on my forehead. It helped for maybe 3 minutes.
All I could think about was how much I have been through. I kept replaying this past year in my head. Every surgery. Every hospital stay. Every infusion. It was all over.
Rachel squeezed my hand.
I focused on the wall in front of me as I cried harder. I let out my pain and my tears on that table. I could hear the nurses crying, too.
A sheet was placed over my head.
Gasping for air, trying to catch my breath, I could hear a “you’re fine!” and “It’s almost over!” from the man who was cutting me open. I swear, I could feel the scissors cut my insides. One of the nurses put pressure on my neck and they pulled the tube out.
Half way done, I heard a scrape -they found the port- he tugged and pulled but it was so stuck in there that it wouldn’t budge. I was screaming at them. Gasping for every breath I could catch. My eyes were filled with tears. I could hear Rachel crying just as hard as I was.
She squeezed my hand again.
The port was out. I felt them throw it onto my chest, as If I had just given birth and they put the baby on me immediately after.
We’re not done yet. Next comes the stitches. I felt the internal stitches…my guess is that there are 2 on the right side.
I felt the thick needle puncture my skin over and over again. I felt the string slowly pull my body together.
The doctor covered it up and left the room.
The nurses pulled the sheet down from over my face and I couldn’t move.
Rachel took my mask off my face and looked at me. We were both sobbing. My legs were up to my chest, frozen in shock.
I let out another scream.
“I’m so sorry”, I hear from my sobbing nurse. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine”, I cry starring off at that wall. I could feel the emptiness in my voice. Rachel and I sat together for 5 more minutes just sobbing.
Right as the nurse came back in, Rachel and I were getting dressed. “Do you need anything?” my nurse said with sadness in her eyes.
I let out a smaller, more pulled together cry, “Can I just go home?”.
Dad, Rachel, and I went to the car. No one really said anything.
The only noise during the car ride home was my quiet sobbing.
What the hell was that? Why was I awake? Why didn’t he stop? Why did he place a sheet over my face when I cried harder?
I felt it all.
So I ask again.
Have you ever seen the movie “Saw”?
You are my brave best girl! You have borne so much and with such panache and courage. I am more proud of you than you can ever imagine. Precious child, just think, you are bigger than Lyme and never for a minute did you let it beat you down. I want you here so that I can hug you right now!. GM
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I’m so sorry sweetheart. You have been through so much to have this top it all off. It is over now and you are a stronger person having overcome what you’ve endured these past few years. I am so proud of you and I love you so much.
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