So G stayed with me in the infusion room this time around. I think i mentioned before that the room is very comfy – recliners, pillows, blankets – u couldn’t ask for more. So we set up shop next to each other to await the afternoon’s activities. Well, by the 4th or 5th time of trying to get my blood, the nurse and I had a small conversation that went like this:
Nurse: “ur veins are really tiny…anyone tell u about port?”
Me (so excited): “Port? that will help? really?” – in my mind, I was already thinking, hehhehheh, i will need to start taking these days completely off and i’ll drink a glass (or 2) of Port before coming here, so that the blood will flow, the veins will bulge and getting into them will be a breeze – a valid excuse to knock back a few?
G, next to me, hearing my excitement and putting 2 and 2 together says, “Not Port, jackass!” “A port!!!” I came crashing back to earth…Apparently the nurse had asked me about “a port” a few minutes before, but i didn’t hear and someone else had walked up and distracted her so the conversation never continued. G heard when she’d asked the 1st time so realized that it was some kinda apparatus or something that she was talking about.
Anyway, in a nutshell, a port is a small device that is inserted and remains right beneath the skin. A catheter connects the port to a vein and blood can be drawn from/drugs administered in the device as needed, with less discomfort for the patient than a typical “needle stick”. In other words, it’s a “sure thing” and would be used every time i go for an infusion. No more, “guess how many times i’ll be stuck today” or “veins not wanting to “come out and play”” or any of that usual bullshit.
The nurses suggest that i think about it because my veins give so much trouble. Food for thought…