Living in the Limbo

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Central Line Surgery!

*Content Warning: Images of surgical site, blood, and bruising at the bottom of article.*

The weeks leading up to the central line surgery I had been preparing myself mentally to see a much more visible and overt medical device on my chest. The PICC was definitely something I had to get used to, but it was always hidden by clothing and my PICC sleeve. Even I didn’t see the site much because of it, but with the central line, it would be in my peripheral always and would be seen if I wore anything that wasn’t a crewneck or turtleneck.

 

My nurse had also told me to make sure I voiced to the surgeon the ideal placement of the line. The reason this was so important, is because they don’t want anything rubbing against the line and we wanted to make sure the line wouldn’t be under where my backpack strap would need to go. The issue is that it’s something to keep in mind, but it’s entirely dependent on your body and where your veins are located within your body type.

 

On November 30th, 2021, I woke up at 6:35 a.m. feeling a nervous energy for the surgery ahead. My dad and I arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. and ended up getting lost trying to find where the waiting room/area the surgery was going to be done. Luckily, my surgery time got moved back to 8 a.m. so we had extra time to find the space.

 

We finally found the area where we were supposed to be, and it was then that I realized I was getting surgery done in the cardiovascular center (which I guess makes sense, but I thought it was going to be done in a regular operating room or like the interventional radiology center where I got my PICC replaced).

 

The waiting room was super small, but I waited with my dad trying to get my mind and body ready as if I was about to play in a sports competition.

 

The nurse came into the waiting room and got my dad’s contact information. My dad said goodbye as I walked down the hallway back into the prep room. I changed into a gown (which was always weird because my tubing would run down the inside of my gown because to have it run outside of my arm, I’d have to disconnect it and reconnect it through the sleeve-just PICC clothes-changing problems).

 

I was moved into the hallway before the operating room and I was handed lots of forms to sign and told a lot of information about the procedure. I made sure I was getting anesthesia (because it’s INSANE to me that the standard for this procedure is to do it awake. WHO would want to be AWAKE as someone cuts into your chest and shoves a tube into your heart?!!!). I was SOO thankful to have learned earlier on that I could request these procedures with anesthesia because otherwise I can’t imagine how traumatic this would’ve been.

 

One of the nurses came by to start and IV and instead of doing it in my arm they tried putting one into the vein below my thumb (*insert queasy face). Ohh how that hurt….

 

It didn’t work because they couldn’t get the vein so they kept repoking it and trying to reposition and I was focusing so hard to maintain my composure. They stuck a bandaid on it and then put in a regular IV on my forearm.

 

I also mentioned to the nurses and prep team about the location of the central line (which was going to be a Hickman line-just the brand name of the line I got put in) and they mentioned they’d try their best and would mention it to the surgeons.

 

After waiting a bit in the prep bed, I was rolled into the operating room. The room was smaller than the IR room I had been in before, but the equipment and table looked similar. There were so many people in the room all preparing things and it was a bit hectic.

 

I scooted onto the table and sat up trying to help the doctors disconnect my TPN as they asked me questions (and some were trying to get me to lie down). Through the glass window I could see the whole other plethora of doctors whose job was to monitor my vitals and monitor signs.

 

I thought I was going to have to be awake for the removal of the PICC since they usually have you hold your breath as they pull out the last 15cm of the line in order to not have an air embolism. Luckily, they did the removal while I was under anesthesia.

 

I remember laying down as the anesthesiologist was counting off and I was slowly drifting off to sleep.

 

 

At around 11:40 a.m. I woke up in the recovery center and felt so nauseous (always happens to me with anesthesia). I felt a very deep pain in my chest and couldn’t move my upper body or right shoulder without immense pain. My neck had been taped (it was a pressure dressing) and it was preventing me from being able to hold my head straight.

 

I was basically an exhausted zombie and looked awful.

 

A nurse caught on and gave me a stuffed animal to cheer me up- which was actually really sweet of them.

 

I remained in the recovery room for 30 minutes for monitoring and my dad was invited in to see me. We were given a folder with limited information on the procedure and were discharged.

 

We took the wheelchair on the way home at around 12:30pm and I immediately went to sleep when I got to my bed.

 

I woke up at 2:41pm and had a popsicle and then felt so nauseous. I had help from my dad to make it to the bathroom to pee, but I was just dealing with so much pain that day that I was trying my best to keep it together.

 

Continued sleeping the rest of the day and felt better-ish towards the evening.

 

On December 1st (the following day) I was crying every time I moved from the pain. I mostly rested in bed and tried not to move.

 I had a really tough time trying to figure out the best method to sleep and not get my tubes pulled because the line was really heavy and the weight of the tubing would pull causing more pain. I did a lot of trial and error and still couldn’t find the method that worked best even for during the day.

The following three days I was usually up all night from pain and slept all day.

 

The site was bleeding more over the few days just from the minimal movements I was doing, and my neck was still taped up funny. I hadn’t showered in a while either since I could barely get out of bed.

 

It was a rough recovery but definitely worth it in the long run.

Read how Emma’s month continues in, “Happy Holidays TPN!”