PICC Line Insertion

It is last week when I finally decide to tell my Oncologist about my vein pain because it hasn't gone away, even 10 days after chemo.  We agree that I should have a PICC Line inserted and I meet with the Infusion RN, Mirna, to have my veins examined to determine if she can access them.  Everything's a go.  The veins are accessible, they're just in pain.  Mirna explains she has seen this many times before.  The veins don't have to collapse before you experience the burning pain.  I schedule to have the procudure done the next day.  Now I'm nervous.  Up until now, I've been able to handle all the poking and prodding throughout my body, but now that pain is becoming a constant companion, I'm starting to fear needles.

So I call Angel, pay her a visit on my way home, and ask if she'll accompany me.  Yes!  We decide to make a day of it since she has a doctor's appointment in L.A.  It's perfect; we go to her appointment, shop at the Beverly Center, have lunch and head over to Kaiser.  My RN Mirna, who will be performing the procedure, is sweet and flashes me the biggest smile when I arrive.  Her kindness puts me at ease.  Everyone at the Infusion Center is nice. 

We go to the private "surgical" room and everything is prepped like I will have surgery.  I'm wondering why I have a paper blanket draped over me, why Mirna is donning a paper gown, why there's a lot of "coverage" everywhere.  Come to find out, when they access your vein to insert the PICC line, a lot of blood squirting can occur.  It's pretty gnarly.  Mirna has warned Angel of this when I was in the bathroom earlier.

The procedure is about to start and Angel holds my hand as we watch some celebrity gossip show on the TV set in front of the bed.  Mirna finds the vein and startings running a blue "tubing" through the vein, up my arm, over across my chest and down my chest to the superior vena cava.  While she is "wiring" me down my chest, she has me turn my head to face left so that the tubing doesn't go up my neck.  Freakish.  I'm starting to think I don't have the intestinal fortitude to handle procedures so much anymore.  Once the PICC line is in place, she then flushes the line with fluid and has me listen for bubbles.  If I hear bubbles, then the line went up my neck.  Thank God, no bubbles. 

During this whole procedure I am instructed to watch TV or chat with Angel and not look at the work being done.  Once completed, I turn my head and witness the bloodbath that has occurred.  There is blood all over my forearm and hand, puddles on the floor and splatter all over Mirna's gown.  Wow!  It looks like I've bled about a 1/2 pint.  I get all excited now and ask Angel to take pictures of the scene.  She refuses to participate in my now macabre ritual of photographically documenting my experience with cancer.  I finally persuade her to hand me her phone so I can shoot a couple of frames.  After several failed attempts, Angel finally jumps in and starts to point and shoot.  But by now Mirna has quickly wiped up most of the blood so we only get her gown and the floor.  Oh well, that'll do.

The procedure is complete and Angel leaves for her evening Pepperdine class in L.A.  We've pre-arranged that Tina will pick me up on her way home from work.  It works out perfectly.  Angel leaves, I go to x-ray to make sure the PICC line is inserted properly and Tina picks me up shortly after I'm done. 

It's been a long day.  I'm exhausted.  I've not been out and about this many hours in one day for a while and I'm ready for bed by 7:00 p.m.  I'm glad the day is over and I'm feeling blessed to have such good women friends in my life.