Titty Gate

It’s the little things.

This seems so simple in the grand picture of everything I’ve been through, but removing my port was huge! Yesterday, my little button, as I always called it, got removed from my chest. That little constant reminder that I was sick.

I remember having it placed inside me, a daunting sign of what was to come. This was the device, implanted under my skin, that would administer chemotherapy. This was the first visible indicator I was sick.

Surgery was surgery. People have surgery all this time. But this little button… this little button meant I had a very long journey ahead of me. One that was very scary. I had no idea what to expect. I felt so sad when it got put in. Now people can see. And while I shared and was very open about it all, there is something extremely different about being vocal on your own terms and having a visible indicator of it. It was the pre-hair loss reminder I was sick.

When I finished chemo, I was so excited it could come out now! No. Not until after radiation. Oh. Ok. Almost 3 months after chemo ended, the little button could finally come out!

My hair has now reached a point in its growth where people think this is a choice, so my little button was the final visible indicator of cancer.

Always trying to find the positive, I will say having the little button was great for blood draws. I’m what the nurses call a “hard stick” especially in my left arm, so little button saved me the multiple stabbings I get when trying to have blood taken. I will miss that benefit but it’s is time to say…

Bye bye little button!