Yesterday my port was removed. I expected to feel different, as it had, after all been a physical part of my body now for more than a year. I have grown used to feeling the bump beneath my skin, of seeing the lump sticking out through my t-shirts like some enormously puffy third nipple on a particularly cold day, and now, it’s gone! Gone just like that. Well not quite so easily as the US health insurance industry threw in a couple of curved balls along the way . Having managed to negotiate all the obstacles placed along the way I have to say that the actual process went by really smoothly from my perspective. The nurses who worked with me at Memorial Outpatients in Hollywood, Marissa, Vivian and Sue were great and kept me amused, while in the OR Dr Eckstein and his team got on with things without me knowing anything about it until I came around. As I said I expected to feel different, this is, after all, a significant moment as the last part of my chemo treatment is removed. Strangely I don’t feel different, I don’t feel elated, I don’t really feel anything about the port going except somewhat sore and a little curious to see whether or not I have another interesting scar to match the one on my neck from my biopsy.