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I had a PICC line for chemotherapy rounds 2-5, and I didn’t like it very much, to put it mildly. (If you weren’t around then, please feel free to read about when I had it installed, how I came to terms with it – sort of – and when I had it taken out.)
Of everything I’ve been through in my dance with cancer, the PICC challenged me most, and upset me most, and was the most difficult to come to terms with. (Yes, worse than hair loss.) So deciding to have it back, after the last herceptin debacle, was a difficult step to take. Needs must, and all that, but imagine choosing to go through something that really hurt you all over again, and you’ll know it hasn’t been an easy call to make.
But, having made the decision, I knew I had to make a better job of preparing myself than I did last time. So that’s what I’ve been doing. (Obviously, I know what I’m in for this time, so that helps.)
First, I did some research, to see whether a Hickman line (into the chest) would be better than a PICC. I decide that it wouldn’t be… so I felt as though I’d made a choice, and the PICC was a better option. (As well as being a better option than being repeatedly stabbed with a needle every three weeks, of course.)
Then, I didn’t request the appointment until I was ready to. I knew it had to happen, but I waited until I’d got my head round the whole idea, as much as I thought I was going to. This meant last Friday, when I emailed Rachael and asked her to organise the appointment for the morning and herceptin for the afternoon.
Then, I asked Gerri to come with me. Not only does Gerri knit and make me laugh, but she’s also genuinely interested in the medical side of things, which helps me to be engaged by the process and distracted from the implications.
Then, I contacted Gosia, the hypnotherapist and transformational coach I first met via The Haven, and booked a session with her.
Then, I had lots of big bubbly baths. (And I also treasured every moment I had in the water in Egypt.)
Yesterday, I had a session with Gosia. What I love about working with her is that she doesn’t just go, ‘OK, you’re worried about having a PICC line, let’s hypnotise you and make you believe that the PICC line is your best friend and you won it as a prize and everyone is jealous of you’. Gosia finds out what’s behind the fear, the difficulty, the worry, and she works to help with that.
Last time I had a PICC, part of my distress was all to do with feeling like an invalid when I was striving so hard to believe and make myself well. Gosia helped me to see the PICC as a gateway to healing, and it was a huge help.
This time, the PICC felt like a step backwards. It felt like a sign that my dance with cancer will go on and on and on forever. It felt like an intruder into my body, and I have always been uncomfortable with the fact that it sits so close to my heart. Gosia and I explored this, and we decided that the PICC, rather than being something that got in the way, was something that was going to make my treatment easy and effortless and over sooner. We also talked about it as an outward manifestation of how life could be easy too. She put me under (or whatever the hypnotherapy term is) and we replaced the fear and worry with a sense of welcome and ease.
Now, I’m aware that might sound a bit bonkers to you, and of course you are welcome to feel that way. But I have to tell you that shortly afterwards I had an email from someone expressing their sorrow and sympathy that the PICC line was back…. and I was genuinely bemused, along the lines of ‘why would anyone be sorry about a PICC line?’. I think it’s powerful stuff. Of course, it may be powerful simply because I believe it’s powerful, but frankly, so long as it works, I don’t much care.
As a result of my session with Gosia, I feel calm. I feel ready. I feel something that I can only describe as being a deep sense of home. (If you could use a little Gosia help, visit her website here. She’s based in London but does work on the telephone, which is what we did yesterday. She’s also running a course, The Year I Would Love To Have, on 24 January, which you may want to look at. I’ll be there.)
I’ve also prepared by finding and buying a PICC protector, so I will be able to have showers and baths in relative ease. (According to the site I’ll be able to swim, too, but I might see how the baths go before I fling myself into the pool.)
Tomorrow, I will wear clothes that I love (I think the shiny red shoes might be coming out again), take some really nice knitting with me, and remember how lucky I am. Between now and then, I will be running over the process in my mind, again and again and again, and as I do I will be imagining it going really smoothly, really easily, really well.
And, never one to miss a shopping opportunity, I’ll probably buy myself a little present too. Maybe something from the Literary Gift Company. Or a new bead for my Pandora bracelet. Or I’ll squirrel away some money towards my next piece of Cynthia’s beautiful work.
I think I’m ready. Have I missed anything?
Oh Mrs, I have a lump in my throat, but I do no that this will be OK and you will find it more manageable now you know what is happening. I know it is a great big step to take, butwell done you.
I think the protector is a fab idea. One of, if not the hardest thing about my surgery and healing was the fact the wound was open for so long and I couldnt bath or go swimming with minimad and I was oh so thankful for the wonderful nurse that came up with the idea of using a stoma bag to collect the fluid and protect the wound. It made getting better easier.
I think getting your head round it is the biggest step. I wish you all the best to your appointment. Hugs
Stephanie, what I used was saran wrap and we taped it around the arm at the top and bottom to shower and bathe. I was actually glad to have the PICC line and not all the needles. Some people also use bread bags, lol.
Six weeks ago I had reconstruction (a diep) and wish there was something to use to cover the stomach drains so I could relax in a bath….maybe tomorrow the last one will come out.
Good luck with your PICC line.
I think that you definately deserve a pandora bead for your bracelet!
The PICC line? My oncologist doesn't "do" them. My veins have totally collapsed and they are very small anyway but she gave the go ahead to use my compromised arm because I only had a few nodes out. Each time I go for herceptin I am like a cat on a hot tin roof!
Found your blog via Nicola Morgan's.
Keep going. Keep going.
I've just passed the tenth anniverary of my cancer surgery.
Margaret Adams
http://www.margaretadams.co.uk
I will be thinking of you being incredible tomorrow because, though I've never met you face-to-face, I don't need to to know you are incredible. The red shoes and the shopping sound like pretty useful supports, just in case extra support is needed! Your knitting friend sounds fab, too!
Thank you everyone, and welcome, Margaret, Nicola. I'm glad you're here.
You'll have to let us know how that PICC line protector works … I don't have a PICC line right now but I know I'll probably have one in the future once again.