So I got up this morning and jumped on the scale. All I could think was - finally. I was down three pounds from last week. Now if it wasn't for the tremendous weight gain that I have experienced since coming home from the hospital back in September, I might be a little worried about that - but I am still at a very 'healthy' weight (meaning I have some to lose). In the past two months, I have gained just over 15 pounds. Which when you consider that I have been pretty much surviving off of TPN bag feedings - that is quite an increase. I really think my body just knows that it was in trouble, so whatever I consumed it made sure to store it so that I would have a reserve to pull from later. Either way, definitely nice to start the morning off with seeing a lower number.
So I jumped on the phone - hoping to catch my dietitian (Gina) on the phone, but knew I would get her voicemail. I left her a message with my weekly weight and also let her know that I had thought about it last night and I would like to move forward with maintaining my picc line this week so that we could pull it next week if all goes according to plan. About 30 minutes later my phone rang and it was her. We went over my numbers and she told me that she would give the doctor a call - that there was the possibility that they would just decide to pull the picc line today. She asked how I felt about that and I answered that I would be fine with it being done today or next week. She said she would touch base with my nurse if they heard back from my doctor before my appointment.
11:00 rolled around and it was time for my nurse (Vanessa) to show up. Vanessa had never been to my house before since we had always met at my work, so I anticipated that she wouldn't get here on time and might get lost trying to find the place. A few minutes before 11 she called me to say that she had just gotten off the phone with Gina and that they were still waiting to hear from my doctor. She said she was going to slow down heading over to my place in hopes of getting the phone call before coming to my house.
A little after 11:00, Vanessa showed up. I knew because the dogs started going nuts that someone was at the house. I opened up the front door and was greeted by Vanessa who was smiling from ear to ear. She looked at me and said -
"So, you ready to have a great day?"
Music to my ears (and I fought back the tears)! I was getting my picc line pulled. As she prepped everything, removed the dressing from arm, I asked her if it was going to hurt. I thought it was a reasonable question since it was basically this tubing which has been sitting inside my body for the last two months that goes from the middle of my arm, up and across my shoulder, and down into my chest. I thought it was reasonable since my body has been trying to close up around this tube - why wouldn't it maybe be adhered to something inside me. Right?
Well, it didn't hurt. Actually I couldn't really feel anything at all. I did watch though - I am kinda weird like that. She slowly pulled out this really long white tube which was slimed up and bloody as it came out. The tube itself was about 15 inches long. She held a compress on my arm for a few minutes to stop the bleeding. Had gauze which was covered in a betadine goop which was applied over the hole now left behind in my arm. And she finished by covering it with a bandage that I have to leave on for 24 hours.
She measured the tubing - made sure it was the same length coming out as it was when it went in. All good there. Took my usual vitals and wrote up my discharge papers. Handed her my TPN pump and bag - everything else will be getting picked up by one of the delivery guys at some point in the future. She gave me a big hug, wished me luck and said - don't take this the wrong way, but I hope our paths don't cross again.
I keep looking at my arm and can't believe that the line is actually gone. I kinda have those phantom feelings of the tubing brushing against my skin - get a little shiver now and again. My arm is a little tender but that is to be expected. Surprisingly she said that it will probably only take about 48 hours or so for my arm to heal - so I just have to make sure I keep a bandage over it until it fully closes.
I know there are no guarantees that I won't have to return to TPN treatment in the future - but for now I am treasuring every moment that I am picc line free. I am treasuring being able to do all of the normal daily activities without having to worry about cover up my arm, or carrying my supplies, or whatever. I can just get up and go if the mood strikes.
It's hard to explain. I kinda feel vibrant again. My energy levels are still pretty much shot - I crashed hard this afternoon, I think from all of the excitement and then I went out to the mall and treated myself to an outfit that I will probably wear to my 20 year high school reunion in a few weeks. I have just been wiped out this evening. But inside - mentally - I feel 'normal' and vibrant again. I feel like I can be a girl again. I feel like I blend in again instead of feeling like people are staring at me.
Now I have to fight. Fight each day to eat. Fight through the side effects of eating. Fight to remain hydrated. Fight to remain nourished. If I am able to do this and my body cooperates by accepting and processing what I consume - then I can stave off having to return to TPN treatment. I have to fight. Fight to keep my life normal as possible.
It's a fight and today was a step in the right direction.
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