Twice is Too Much

I had an infusion yesterday of intravenous Immunoglobulin (IVIg). It's a collection of human antibodies from 3000 to 10,000 different people. Not the safest product to have being pumped into my body, nasty viruses can slip through the purification process, but IVIg has kept me alive the last 4 years. It helps my body fight off infections, since my immune system hasn't worked too well the last few years.

So, what are you looking at in the picture? It's the port in my chest which they now use to administer chemo, IVIg, anything that is going into my blood. The picture shows it accessed, meaning there is a big needle in it and it is covered with a bandage. The port is raised up about 1/4 to 1/2 inch under my skin. It is easily seen when it's not covered with a bandage. The dark line on the side is the scar from the surgery when they put the port under my skin. (see my blog Dec. 7, '07 for the port surgery story). The big "vein" running from the scar up my chest toward my neck is actually the plastic tubing under my skin. It goes into a vein by my neck and down towards my heart. The port is supposed to be easy to access. No problems, stick once, it's ready, unlike arm IVs which aren't always easy to hit. Well, yesterday, the nurse had to stick my port twice. Ugh. I had put topical lidocaine on it to numb it first, but I still feel the needle going through my chest. The needle must have been defective because the nurse could get blood flow out but couldn't put any liquid in. She messed around with the needle, moving it and trying to reposition it. She said, "I've never had this happen before". I don't know how many times I have heard medical professionals say that about different procedures, drugs, etc. involving me. I'm the anomaly. I wake up during surgery with general anesthesia, but that's another story. Finally, I told her to take the needle out and put another one in. After sticking me a second time, the port IV worked correctly. She said, "You were very brave." I thanked her but thought, "Do I really have a choice? Tell her "No, I'm not having a needle stuck in my chest twice, so I'll skip my lifesaving medicine?" Obviously, not.

I took the picture because over the next 1 1/2 hours my chest hurt. To put it mildly, it doesn't feel good to have a needle stuck into my chest. It doesn't help that my body really doesn't want the port because it has surrounded it with scar tissue making it really, really sensitive. Thus, with the nurse jostling it around, my chest felt bruised. To top it off, I could feel the saline drip going into my chest and it burned because it was cold. I took the picture to remind myself down the road what I went through, yet I did it, and I'm better as a result.