Praying for Herman-the-port

Hello Friends.
Today was labwork (blood test) and the end-of-cycle-two/start-of-cycle-three meeting with my oncologist.  Nothing new to report (thank you, Lord for nothing new!!!) but that she feels that my numbers are good and we are a go for chemo tomorrow.  The plan is that my lovely chemo nurse (I don't actually know who my nurse will be tomorrow but you can't go wrong with those super-nice ladies in the chemo room) will access the port and we'll go from there.  Accessing the port means that she will plug the needle in...the needle has a tube attached...that tube (it might actually be two, I don't look) has the IV ending thingie on it and that's where the chemo IV tube is hooked in.  Again, I don't actually look so don't quote me on that! 

To "access" the port (looks like a 'that was easy' button from the supply store but it's white and the top is soft so the needle goes into it...that part is about the size of a quarter, a little smaller, sits fully under my skin, waterproof even!) means that once the needle part is stuck through my skin and into the plastic port thing under my skin the nurse will use a needle of saline through the IV ending part and push saline in and then draw (pull) blood out... drawing the blood out is the important part.  We really need to see that little bit of blood...then we all happy dance that the port is fully working and "accessed".  Please please please please please pray that the port works fully and wonderfully!   IF the port doesn't work, then they will inject a special clot-eater medicine that clears the end of the tube (the port has a tube that goes up to my neck and then around the corner and into my jugular vein and towards my heart).  The blood-unclotter stuff sits there for an hour and then we try to access the port again.  My concern is that the port will not be accessible.  You know all that needle talk above... the beauty of the port is that it's only ONE poke... and then everything else goes through the port.  Two weeks ago at chemo, when they were not using the port due to the emergency situation/blood clot it took three nurses and my doctor NINE TRIES to get a vein... port is ONE TRY.   Please, again, pray that the port works.  This is on my mind.  It was reassuring to hear my oncologist say that they have a few tricks up their sleeves in case the port doesn't work tomorrow... thank you, Lord, for medicine and research and tricks-up-sleeves.  So grateful!!!!

Today the lab had trouble getting my vein... well, they can get the vein, but the sucker kept rolling away and wouldn't behave easily.   Oi.  I don't faint, I don't even cry... but the gweebie factor is high and it takes a lot of effort to send my mind on vacation until the nurse is done.

I am thankful for chemo.  I want the chemo.  I pray that the port will work and that chemo process will be uneventful and it's usual comfortable-day-out routine that we have enjoyed thus far.  And I pray that for every chemo from here on in.   Thank you if you pray it, too.   [smile]

Wasn't the sunshine gorgeous today?!?!  Honestly, seeing the frosty white rooftops, and then looking up and seeing, "what is that?!?! BLUE????!!!!" was such a fun surprise when I opened the blinds this morning!  Had a great visit with a dear friend today.  Saw another friend for a sidewalk chat as I was leaving the Cancer Agency... and then a relaxing afternoon with the kids while my mother-in-law helped around the house so I could rest.   Hanging out with the boys this afternoon while M is swimming.  Normal.  Thankful for normal.

Have a great evening you!!!