Between a port and a hard place

The phone rings. It is my infectious disease (ID) doctor's nurse. She informs me my ID doctor has sent orders for me to have my port removed. I know this news should make me leap for joy. But, instead, I want to collapse in a heap of sorrow. I have fought for so long to get a port--to have permanent intravenous access. Now, I have it, but the port, which is providing this service, is causing havoc on my body.

The endless pain and symptoms which are plaguing my body every day often threaten to leave me shaking and in tears. I try everything to lessen my symptoms. But they never go away. I should be rejoicing these medical maladies should soon be a distant memory. But my heart breaks. I know the infections in my respiratory tract need to be treated...and they can only be treated with IV antibiotics. Once the port is removed, all hope of ever fighting these infections in the safety of my own home evaporates. When I no longer have IV access, the only way I will be able to obtain IV antibiotics is by being admitted to the hospital. The threat of acquiring another bacteria, which may be more drug-resistant than the bacteria my respiratory tract already harbors, is high. Nearly every time I have been hospitalized, I have picked up another bug.

As I ponder my choices, there seems to be none. Either I have to endure chronic intense pain, passing out, dizziness, palpitations, etc. and keep the port (and IV access), or I have to have the port removed and will be back in the hospital very soon. I wish there was another answer--an easy answer. But, my health always seems to be one where you have to choose between two poisons--both options will make you sick. The only choice is how sick do I want to get? The outcome of either decision is unknown.

Praying God makes a way, one which will be free of grave danger. I just want to be on the road to better health as quickly as possible.