Port to Jugular

(As the war on cancer continues)

It’s a 7:00 AM arrival

At Rogue Surgical

Your name?

Birthdate?

Insurance card?

Picture ID?

$100. co-pay?

She hardly looks at me

As nimble fingers lock  in my stats

Spell Macroglobulinemia

Sign this release.

Next station: surgical nurse

Birthdate?

Weight and height?

Blood pressure?

Have you sponged

With 2%chlorhexidine Gluconate preoperative rags?

Last food or water?

Nostril swipe for

MRSA methacyllin resistant staph aureaus indicators

Your procedure:

Surgical implant of a power-injectable port?

Correct…

 (Made of silicone that allows the septum

To be punctured many hundreds of times

And still retain its integrity.)

She starts the drip

And adjusts my heated blanket.

Closer now

Surgeon and anesthesiologist,

 Bedecked in blue scrubs,

Check for final confirmations

Name?

Birthdate?

Any questions?

And as they disappear behind double doors

Marked “scrub zone”

I bid farewell to Jim

And join the crew in the icy operating room.

No introductions

It’s straight business in there

Breath deep from this, Ruth…

And I’m gone.