So, before chemo can start in earnest, most people have to be fitted with a device to allow chemicals to go straight into the bloodstream. There is either a PICC which sits outside the body ( often on the arm) or a Port placed under the skin for longer term treatments. I have added a little link to a health site at the bottom of the page if anyone wants more information on these.

So because my treatment was considered long term I was suppose to get a ‘port’ but given it was Covid and basically things were not fabulous in hospitals and there were some shortages of medical equipment I was given a ‘picc’ instead.

A couple of things. Firstly, my next story is very specific to me. This story is certainly not intended to concern anyone about to have a ‘picc’ put in their arm. I am not aware having talked to other people that this next story has ever occurred to anyone else and am sure it is just typical of my particular adventure.

Secondly I hate needles! I know! As I had already been turned into a bit of a pincushion before getting to this stage, you would think I could face needles in my stride but no. So you understand, a ‘picc’ operation can involve a LOT of needles in various shapes and forms.

So into hospital I bravely go to have the little ‘picc’ operation and sooo many things did not work in my favour. The nurses who prepped me were lovely but then in walked the most unusual surgeon I have ever seen. It was like a very rushed Kim Kardashian had entered the building complete with a faux fur coat. A very cross Kimmy. Seriously! She referred to me as ‘the patient’ and was yelling at the nurses that she ‘just wanted to get on with it’. I think probably she had been called in as an emergency replacement (Covid times) but seriously, the veins near my heart were now going to be at the mercy of a possibly tired and emotional Kimmy. I was not liking this experience.

Ok so first issue, Kimmy was struggling to even find a vein in my arm to start the process. Many attempts on both arms were made with Kimmy getting more and more frustrated and me lying on the table being all reassuring. “It’s Ok try the other arm.” “It’s OK I have bad veins”, all the while thinking “It’s OK but I think I might pass out.”

Poor old Kimmy told the nurses she needed a little break so I just lay on the operating table for a while whilst I’m sure she had a lovely coffee. On her return I almost braved the question “Should we try and do this another time?” but the freshly made up Kimmy scared me more than needles, so on it went. The the arm situation actually progressed and then the machine used to view the entry to the vein near my heart was put in place. Not the most wonderful experience. There was dead silence for over 20 minutes peppered occasionally with “No, that’s too wide”, “No wrong position”, “No”, “Not right”, “Nearly there” interspersed with a nurse saying to me ‘just relax’. Man, I have never been less relaxed in my life. I remember thinking “Well, this will be an inglorious way to die, survived everything so far only to be taken out by a needle slip to the heart.

Next think I know I was told I could open my eyes. Kimmy had left the building. Looking down I now had a little claw like device coming out of my arm, and whilst I felt a little bit like a cyborg, never had I felt such relief. “Goodbye Kimmy, hello little ‘picc’.”

“Hello little ‘picc’.” did have it’s own issues. Once you have a ‘picc’ you must make sure it doesn’t move ( obviously as it is attached to veins in the body), must keep it clean ( as in go to the cancer centre and have it cleaned weekly) and you can NOT get it wet. This last point is a game changer. For someone who used to pop in and out of a shower, hair washed and ready to face the world in 10 minutes, for the next 9 months I took up to an hour if I wanted to have a full shower and hair wash. I had to cover the ‘picc’ in plastic bags and rubber bands to keep it waterproof if showering, so lots of ‘sponge baths’ were had instead.

Super big tip for people with a ‘picc’. If you can afford it go to a hairdresser to have your hair washed. It is a really safe way to protect your ‘picc’ and is the best feeling. A hairdresser voucher also a thoughtful thing you could gift a person with a ‘picc’ if they would like it.

I have many more ‘picc’ adventures to share in future blogs. For now I will say that a ‘picc’ is actually really manageable once you accept it and the lifestyle changes it brings. I am very proud that in my 9 months of having my little cyborg friend I never had to have it replaced (which was probably motivated by not wanting to encounter Kimmy again if it was to happen!). For anyone about to have one implanted I am sure your experience will be an easy one, as I genuinely believe mine was a ‘one off’.

‘Picc’ in place, I was now ready to start chemo in earnest.

If you have your own tips or stories about ‘ports’ or ‘piccs’ I’d love you to leave these in the comments. Below is a link to further information on these.

https://www.healthline.com/health/breast-cancer-navigator/central-venous-catheters-picc-lines-versus-ports