My port catheter, aka my "alien," finally had enough this past Friday—and tried to escape my chest. Pricking through my skin, I half expected it to burst through my chest wall, snarling at me and waving its slimy tentacles (just like that infamous scene from the movie "Aliens"). At the suggestion of my breast surgeon, I went back to see the surgeon who implanted the device. He agreed that if left to its own, the port would probably break through the skin, exposing me to a risk of infection. So Polly Pincushion was pricked once again. The doc put a needle in my chest, injected some local anesthetic, and made a small incision near my catheter. All of this happened while I was wide awake, trying not to move or see the scalpel cutting into my skin. It turned out that a stitch he had made during the original procedure had worked its way to the surface of my skin. He just snipped it away then sewed me back up. Thank goodness my breast surgeon—as well as the chemo nurses—noticed the potential problem - kudos to them! Pictures below:
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| Before: The alien escapes!! |
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| After: Back in my chest, safe and sound. |
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