I had my last cancer scan on Friday afternoon to check my chest, abdomen and lungs. It went well. I was told that my medical oncologist would have the results in a week. It was perfect timing, as I am scheduled for pre-chemo blood work and a visit with my oncologist this Friday before chemo round two starts on August 3.

Early Monday afternoon, my medical oncologist called with a concern. She advised that the radiologist who was reviewing my CT scan found a suspected blood clot in my chest. My husband and I needed to get to the cancer clinic to receive a blood thinner injection as soon as possible. We also needed to be taught how to inject the blood thinner at home.

My body let me down again.

Rare breast cancer, strike one. Rare cellulitis complication with a mastectomy, strike two. Blood clot as a result of a central venous catheter implant (port), strike three.

I had a small meltdown yesterday and burst into tears with this latest diagnosis. It was news I didn’t want to hear, and is yet another frustration that comes in living with cancer. I thought I was doing fairly well in coping with these cancer complications until this new problem. Unfortunately, it also happened on the week of our daughter’s wedding.

Before my cancer diagnosis, I was in excellent health overall, not on any medications, and had no need for a blood thinner. Because of the chemo port and clotting, I now require daily injections of blood thinner to ensure that this condition does not recur. It has to happen at the same time every day. This will need to take place for the duration of my chemo treatment—another 16 weeks before it’s done.

I can’t give myself these injections as I have a history of fainting with needles. Consequently, my husband had to learn how to give these injections to me every morning to save my life. They are given underneath the skin in the abdominal area. They sting, hurt for a few minutes, and make the injection area tender to touch. One of the side effects of this drug is that it leaves me with bruises from the injections. In a few days my injection area will look like a patchwork quilt.

At the time I was discussing my cancer treatment plan with my medical oncologist, she warned me that there is a potential risk of blood clotting with a central venous catheter. This can also occur with an implanted IV line in one’s arm, the other means in which chemotherapy drugs are infused. Apparently, the first six weeks after a port implant pose the highest risk for complications. My port was installed on July 2.

I knew of the risks, but chose the port for ease of maintenance and to avoid an unsightly IV line and dressing for our daughter’s wedding and related photos. It was the infusion method that my oncology nurse and I discussed and chose based on these considerations.

If it weren’t for the CT scan picking up on the suspected blood clot, I would not have known my life was in danger of a heart attack. By luck (or fate), I was not able to have the CT scan prior to my first chemo treatment due to scheduling delays. If I had the scan prior to my port, I would have been living with the potential of the blood clot dislodging and traveling to my heart due to the proximity of the port location in my chest and jugular vein.

As in the past with other cancer complications, I did not have the typical signs of a blood clot. There was no redness, pain, or swelling in the area. I was slightly out of breath. However, this was not an unexpected complication as these past few days were ones where my blood counts were the lowest in the chemo treatment cycle, which included lower oxygen levels because of reduced red blood cell counts with chemo.

I am grateful for having been given another chance at life due to the swift and excellent medical care of my cancer treatment medical team. Today is a new day, and I will continue my fight for life with Strength, Courage, and Determination.