No Port No More

Today back to St. Peters Hospital to have John’s port removed. The port was installed seven months ago and he received chemo thru that opening in his chest. A handy device but an alien object.

I was cranky all morning though. Truthfully, it was a bad hair day but I was also unhappy to be returning to this hospital which feels like the scene of the crime. Amazing how those feelings come back. The fear during his initial surgery…seven hours became 11 and then 14. His pain and my pain and her pain too.

The port was installed In June and chemo began a few days later. Since then our lives have been about cancer and chemo when they are not about love and sex. Quite a distillation.

But today I was there again, wandering hospital hallways, finding the cafeteria and gift shop and the chapel. This was the chapel that I visited so often that long week when he could not talk or sleep or eat. That scary week when—I realize now—we didn’t even know how much scarier this could eventually get. So that chapel was home.

My prayer today was for his health, for her peace, and for my freedom.