Port (one definition from Google): – a strong, sweet, typically dark red fortified wine, originally from Portugal, typically drunk as a dessert wine

oh how I wish that was the port I have and have come to know and appreciate. Unfortunately, it isn’t.

Port (medical) – (from Wikipedia): In medicine, a port (or portocath) is a small medical appliance that is installed beneath the skin. A catheter connects the port to a vein. Under the skin, the port has a septum through which drugs can be injected many times, usually with less discomfort for the patient than a more typical “needle stick”.

How (Medical) Ports Work (also from Wikipedia – how did we ever live without Wikipedia?!)

A port consists of a reservoir compartment (the portal) that has a silicone bubble for needle insertion (the septum), with an attached plastic tube (the catheter). The device is surgically inserted under the skin in the upper chest or in the arm and appears as a bump under the skin [AKA “My Little Friend”]. It requires no special maintenance and is completely internal so swimming and bathing are not a problem. The catheter runs from the portal and is surgically inserted into a vein. Ideally, the catheter terminates in the superior vena cava, just upstream of the right atrium. This position allows infused agents to be spread throughout the body quickly and efficiently.

One of my colleagues who has fought the battle with breast cancer and won, called it “the button”. To have one is to have a love/hate relationship with it.

A few reasons why ports are great to have:

1. They do help avoid the painful hand or arm needle sticks to run the IV line for every chemotherapy session

2. The location is much nicer, in the upper chest/shoulder area- for hands/arm free movement during the extended duration of chemotherapy sessions (mine run 5-6 hrs for each chemo)

3. In comparison to getting your chemo administered through a vein in your arm or hand, a patient doesn’t need to worry about the chemo “ruining the vein” since it’s know that re-use of veins for chemo administration can “wreck” veins for future chemo administrations.

A few reasons why although a must-have, they aren’t all fun and games, they do effect your life:

1. To have one means you are in this for the long haul. They have to be surgically installed. Even though it’s “simple” out-patient surgery, it still requires surgery to get one put in. As soon as my doctor mentioned that I’d need a port it was a huge red flag as to the severity of my diagnosis and the number of times I was going to be visiting for treatment.

2. Life WITH a port is not the the same as life WITHOUT a port. There’s something permanently with me at all times that sticks out of my skin in my right, upper-chest a little bit – pretty much right where a backpack strap would fit snuggly, or a purse strap would hang. For me, it means carrying my work bag over my left shoulder (which I don’t think will EVER feel normal). For one of my friends this meant she couldn’t carry a backpack at all for hiking – way to ruin her usual, relaxing Saturday afternoons!  At the gym, I have also modified things a bit – I avoid  any lift with a bar that would normally be held in the “front rack” position. Honestly, I avoid anything with a bar that goes over my head at all since it’s standard to rest a bar in the front rack position before lifting it overhead. Just seemed a whole lot safer to me; the kettle bell is my new best friend!

So, maybe after all is said and done, the port (medical) that I have is kind of like a 3rd definition for the word port: a place where ships may ride secure from storms. With My Little Friend, I now ride out each chemo session. It keeps me a little bit more comfortable but it also means I’m taking refuge, and that is not really what life is about. Being at a port is biding time – waiting for the day that I’ll be told I can go it on my own again and finally say goodbye To My Little Friend and go back to being the me I want to be and living the life I want to live.