Today the Cancer Warrior, Wilma, had a port
put in inserted installed. I’m still not sure exactly how to describe it. Every time I hear the word “port”, though, I think of a few different things. Above the door leading into St. Lucy’s Catholic Church in Newark, NJ appear the following words.
Haec est Domus Dei, et Porta Caeli.
This is the House of God and the Gate of Heaven.
It’s hard for me not to have those words etched into my mind since I used to attend the 5:30 PM daily mass there nearly every day for several years. As I glanced around the church before mass I would look up at those words and reflect on the comfort that sentiment brought me. Oh, and go say a prayer for her. As always, I’ll wait…
So today I thought about that comfort as Wilma went in for this procedure that would really initialize her cancer treatment in full. The port in this case is a way of bypassing the need to constantly have to run an IV line (I think). It is, like it’s Latin root portus implies, a “doorway”, a “gate”. And so, too, was today a doorway of sorts. There is no turning back now so there’s a finality about the treatment. In a way, it’s kind of a relief for us because we have a plan and an end date. Still, even though I was at work (my wife was with her) I knew, I had a feeling that this was something Wilma was both nervous about and impatient to see through. I saw her this evening. It’s hard to tell how she felt about the whole thing since she was under the influence of vicodin for the pain. Nonetheless, I spent the evening keeping her as much company as a guy can when his companion is drugged up. But I think she’s feeling better and things will be looking up, more final, less undetermined.
And just in case she needs a laugh when she’s sober…