Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2023-07-15 09:56 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2023-07-15 09:56 pm
Entry tags:
Now I know how getting core sampled feels: an appointment in bullet points.
I got my biopsy on Thursday; it went fine; I'll be getting the results in the next business week or two, unless my specialist lights a fire under the lab and requests expedition.
Labs results from the bloodwork keep popping in. There's a CT interpretation of the lower half of my abdomen, but the upper is being done separately. I'm coming to some conclusions, but I'm going to wait for my specialist to package up what I need to know. I remain optimistic.
That was the tl;dr. The long part's under the cut, mostly in bullet points because it's a lot and the writeup is approaching 2 hours as is.
Appointment Thursday went fine.
This appointment was not at the main location where I'll be getting care, but it was the location of the doctor who was going to do the CT guided biopsy, and I might as well get the CT scan with contrast done while I was in there and undressed and all. So I scoped out the trip and did my best to prepare the night before.
* ate breakfast at 5:45 and then crashed back to sleep; breakfast was a Milky Way bar.
* Found a Sharpie while I was getting dressed, considered, wrote WRONG on my left thigh, and RIGHT with an arrow pointing up towards my hip to my right hip. (I'd considered CORRECT, but RIGHT seemed funnier.)
* Got dropped off at a nearby bus stop
* Contrary to strict instructions about this appointment, had a sip of sugared soda in addition to water
* Made a Bad Decision about bus route calculation: despite having changed my plan from the initial one, kept the first directions active.
Original plan: take Local Route towards Station 1, take any number of possible transits to get between the local route to Station 2, board express bus at Station 2.
Better plan: Take Local Route all the way to Station 1, transfer directly onto express bus, which also stops at Station 1.
I got off the bus somewhat short of Station 1, following the faithful directions of the map app that still thought I was taking a tram or something. The ensuing walk to Station 1 is painful and I almost miss my intended bus.
* Boarded the bus mostly OK, with one joggle where I really should have been holding to the supports on the lift platform.
* Using a large mobility aid does have its benefits: I do not have to figure out where to sit.
* Had made a good decision with my bus pass: it was on its own lanyard around my neck and I just could take it off and hand it to the bus driver to boop me in.
* In the boop pause, I was able to look up the stop where I needed to get off; fortunately I was already familiar with that stop from working downtown.
* Rested on the bus, after getting myself buckled in (there was a lot of space in front of me for my rolly boi, and it would have gone badly in a collision were I not buckled)
* Continued taking sips of water here and there after 10am, but small enough that it would just disappear into the depths of my digestive system
* Looked at the hill, looked at my rolly boi, cut through a building lobby with an entrance on the downhill side and an entrance on the uphill side, and an elevator in between
* Missed a bus that could have waited for me if it had noticed me, while I was laboring up a hill to a bus stop
* got myself braced against a utility pole to wait for the next bus without falling down and rolling further
* attained bus
* debarked bus with no issues
* entered hospital at nearest entrance
* got routed around the ER security to go towards the West tower
* got slightly lost
* found the imaging department as laid out in my welcome info
* waited in line
* got redirected back to the Central tower
* went to the Patient Coping With This Shit office, because none of the labeled departments looked correct
* got redirected to literally the other side of the wall, three right turns
* waited in the waiting room for nearly half an hour, concerned that I might be in the wrong place again
* got taken back
* changed out of my street clothes into two gowns: one up front, and then another over my back as a jacket. I attempt to merge the garments by snapping them together, but alas this does not succeed as the gowns are not built to allow that
* but honestly they should be, with different right and left orientations so you could snap them that way, good god
* had my rolly boi admired
* My nurse for the day has a religious location type name; he is wearing a black scrubs hat and is short. He has a pronoun badge in his stack of work related identity cards, which I appreciate.
* we start out with a warm blanket hand and forearm wrap to make my blood vessels show themselves
* Is this my first biopsy? I think it is, but as he starts in the explanation I remember that yes, I in fact did get a biopsy before the yeeterus.
* I say as much. We skip the biopsy explanation.
* Do I bleed much? Well, for that one it bled pretty typically for the location at that time, but in general I do not have trouble with bleeding too much.
* None of my meds are the kind of med that will cause THAT kind of problem. "Nothing like Warfarin." "No, no rat poison, just the baby aspirin."
* had my imaging plan looked at and told that oh hey I could drink after all since I wasn't going to be knocked out, here chug this contrast
* it didn't taste good enough to drink as water
* Crystal Light fake lemonade was Fine I Guess, crappy lemonade is crappy lemonade and I was thirsty
* the advantage of this appointment is that we could run the wait for oral contrast to work through me concurrently with the biopsy portion of the program (about 45 minutes each)
* Do I have medical allergies? No, nothing that will be coming up in the context of this appointment: I'm allergic to a spermicide. ... ... Yeah, that won't be an issue.
* I had printed out a copy of my medications list; he looked it over and tried to hand it back to me. No: I'd printed it out specifically for this appointment so he could keep it. He said he'd do the data entry later. Woo!
* 3 tries to place my IV, 2 good bruises coming up and the eventual IV in the back of my right hand
* Compliments on my fake tattoo of a rainbow with a heart below it
* Stowed most of my stuff in a self-sealing green bag with a clear panel
* Didn't have to wait too long
* Stowed the last bunch of stuff in the other green bag
* Rolled off to Imaging; we talked about hair and the commute to Seattle, and grabbed an elevator going the wrong direction so we could get going the correct direction and the elevator would not be too full to accept a bed
* Arrived at the place, got me parked in a corner so the team could finish doctor talks and have the doctor arrive and make sure they got stuff moved correctly before I got shoved in
* also needed to be out of the way for someone else getting shoved down the hall
* introduced to the team, first by everyone coming around the side of my rolly bed separately as they arrived, and then again inside as a group.
* I love all of them instantly but know that their names will be as tears in the rain
* The one who's meant to keep an eye on my oxygenation has impeccable winged eyeliner and appropriately decorative eyeshadow; I like her the least but that means that I merely like her quite well enough indeed
* Got me transferred to the bed of the CT machine which fortunately I am capable of walking; doc has Estimation Skillz and he directed me to sit about 6" further down on the bed. Only had to scoot up about 1" from there.
* And do I have any medical allergies? Again: No, nothing that will pose a problem here. Spermicide. Ah. Yeah, no.
* Started my standard Medical Waiting Coping Technique of counting ceiling tiles, which I do in the longest way possible in order to use up any spare time when I can't be thinking about anything else.
* Repeated my name and birthday again, and described in my own words what we were going to do.
* Two biopsies and a CT scan (Where it's At!)
* Doctor allowed as how we were definitely biopsying The Mass and bone, but he had looked at the left-side lymph nodes from the MRI that the MRI interpreter had made !!!! thoughts about, and HE didn't see that they needed investigating. So we'd just be puncturing the one hole.
* Started getting positioned: I wanted my arms across my chest rather than up behind me, which was just fine. A support for under my knees. A velcro wrap around my knees.
* My high school fears about how much psychiatric restraint I might be subjected to due to my mental illnesses vastly overestimated things (to date, none); they did not take into account the amount of restraint for medical procedures.
* Got the "conscious sedation" pushed to my IV; I would learn later that it was the same substance as my pre-MRI anti anxiety med, same dose, just IV instead of a pill an hour beforehand.
* Got my arms strapped into place.
* They wanted to reposition my belly, and I am literally Santa Claus. Medical tape ahoy! Place this end securely on my belly skin, and puuullllll in this direction... can we stick it to the bed? No, Padawan, that part of the bed does not move with the patient, you'll have it secure it somewhere else. I offered my shoulder as an appropriate site. They ignored this, and the tape went around the back of my head and onto the other side of the semi-rigid pillow.
* this repeated for 3-4 wide strands of tape.
* it was not Duct Tape. I asked.
* This all was extremely hilarious.
* Scrubbing down my skin with antiseptic. Draping me. Making sure there was a window in the drapery so they could access the site.
* A trip into the machine; I reported that my elbow was making contact with the torus. Some arm repositioning.
* First an initial scan for baseline.
* I noticed that my wallet name was on the little screen on the front end of the machine. Cool.
* There was a countdown in big red numbers, and then the screen lit up yellow with a radiation trefoil for about a second.
* Then the scanner bed got moved around again.
* There's a screen next to me, showing several views of the first images. The screen cycles through various scanned cross-sections of me. I see my hip bones passing by. I see a tailbone. I begin to register that my bladder is that shriveled-looking thing. Beside it, shoving it to one side, is a rounded object.
* I am too chill to properly start beaming greetings and defiance at the little fucker. Not so little. But it needs to go.
* Time to place the biopsy guide. I got instructions for what to notice, namely, to please speak up if I started feeling pain instead of just pressure.
* First of course we get the initial ingress of the anaesthetic needle. Local anaesthetic. Much less unpleasant than dental anaesthesia, because while it's probably the same substance it's going into my insulation and not into a Very Delicate Part.
* Into the scanner. Some bed adjustments. The screen has several views of the first images. Mouse action from the booth, changing settings. Then the machine hums to life, I see the countdown, I see the yellow stripe on the bottom of the screen for about a second, and a new image starts to show up. More work on the screen, then an influx of medical professionals. Pressure on the biopsy site. Medical professionals out of the room back into the control booth. Repeat the process.
* I started to see a very bright white spike going through my insulation. So that's the probe. Huh. It advances by fractions of a centimeter at a time, as they slowly proceed.
* I now know how a geological feature feels when an engineer is taking a core sample.
* Eventually they make it down to The Mass, which I have been describing to myself in some wonderfully emo Homestuck terms.
* It doesn't explode
* I now know the true feeling of getting core sampled. The equipment goes *spang!* quite unexpectedly inside me.
* I do not jump off the table in surprise because I am strapped down with quite large velcroed straps.
* I do say something vaguely indignant, like "Ow!"
* n.b. that's my yellow/orange safeword
* they check in, I'm mostly just surprised
* another small eternity of *spang!* a few more times
* All done with the core sampling, there is cleanup of the general chaos to my right
* I see someone with a medical sample jar of something very pink, like blood and tissue in an unidentified liquid (Formalin, according to the after-appointment notes)
* Time for the CT scan.
* I get more contrast, this time pushed via IV.
* "Most people feel heat when it goes in"
* there are two vial things with conical bottoms and a curly hose
* the end of the hose gets attached to my IV complex
* "Do you feel it yet?"
* "No?"
* Something is spreading, starting from the middle of my belly or so and very quickly making me aware of every inch of external facing skin in my vulva. "I feel it!" Is this what Pepper felt with Extremis? It's not comfortable, but I have the comfort of knowing that I won't actually physically catch on fire and this feeling is temporary.
* It gets a little easier to bear when it's clear that it's holding steady and will not continue to increase at the very rapid ramp-up rate.
* "45 seconds, okay." From the time of starting the push until I felt it.
* Everyone retreats to the control booth again, probably.
* Machine warms up. Voice over the intercom tells me to take a breath.
* Hold it
* Okay, breathe out.
* we repeat this for a few rounds
* We're done! Total time in the scan room about an hour.
* Now we get me unstrapped, untaped, and all that. I feel exposed.
* The plan is to have me dismount on the same side I got in. No.
* My hip is the last one up onto the bed, and last one down
* We don't need to move the rolling bed, we just need to clear enough space on that side for me to walk around.
* This is acceptable
* The guy who looks a bit like my mental image of Palamades but he's about a foot shorter and Asian helps me sit up; I like him the best
* I hop into bed and someone plays dodgehall back to my original bay in the unit where I checked in
* at one point in the hallway there is a sign saying PLEASE DON'T PARK BEDS HERE
* there is a bed parked underneath it, of course
* I am eager to get something actually to eat and drink
* I ask if I get to have something to drink, and/or food
* My nurse, bless him, asks if a turkey sandwich is okay, with cheese and mustard and mayo
* also the sodas they have
* I imbibe the sweet cold nectar that is coca-cola after a day of no food
* he takes a little longer with the sandwich and it is a slightly sad cafeteria sandwich but the lettuce is crisp if a little shriveled around the edges and it has glorious carbohydrates and protein
* Belovedest is on their way
* to the wrong location, oops
* they arrive before 5
* it is extremely okay that they're going to be here because I'm the last one on the ward
* meanwhile the nurses would like to capture 9 vials of blood for the labs my orthopedic oncologist wants. (Why an orthopedic oncologist when we don't have the biopsies yet? Well, even if the fucker is benign, we'd be wanting someone like that on account of The Mass is getting sufficiently intimate with my bones. It is Double Bones With Doctor Skelebones Time.)
* unfortunately, unlike most of the times I go in for labwork, I have Not Been Hydrating.
* because, of course, of the We Don't Want To Have To Think About Your Stomach order.
* they give it the old college try
* first my nurse
* then another nurse
* eventually she gets a line into my left forearm
* I now have 6 perforations, vaguely symmetrical: backs of hands, elbows, and finally forearms
* this is not the phlebotomy department, they're just sayin'
* the rate of blood flow is not great
* she's got this tube hooked directly in, in some fashion that is not optimal for changing out the tubes; my nurse comes back with a hub and they do some swapsies
* this is messy
* there is blood spattered all over some of the tubes
* there's a drop of blood on the floor
* New nurse is worried about being able to fill all the tubes with my shriveled turnip of a hand
* I start pumping my fingers in the classic way, and that speeds up things somewhat sharpish
* all 9 filled
* My nurse is not sure what BASIC METABOLIC PANEXT means on one of the lab orders
* I suggest that it is a Basic Metabolic Panel, to be taken by an External entity, since this is not my home hospital
* they take away all the tubes
* I get a picture of the blood on the floor before they clean it up
* Belovedest is now in the correct hospital
* My nurse goes to let them in
* I get back into my street clothes
* we don't wind up finding the tiny rubber ear cushion piece from my headphones
* Finally we roll off
* Belovedest brings the car around
* traffic is ass
* I chart our course to a Trader Joe's
* we get a lot of fresh cherries
* Costco
* Belovedest refuels
* Costco is out of cherries, someone takes the last package as we arrive at the cherries display
* I'm glad I've got cherries already
* I can't take a bath when we get home because I'm not supposed to soak the biopsy site for at least 48 hours
* I notice that the edge of the dressing is itchy before I fall over in bed
* I wake up and I have a HUGE CRESCENT RAW SPOT
* we have discovered a new medical allergy
* and there's a voicemail from my nurse
* I rip off the dressing, take a picture, spray the raw spot with Benadryl, confirm that the biopsy site looks basically fine
* I give a call back and get my nurse from yesterday directly; we establish that the cool clear dressing is Tegaderm, and I'm not allergic to the adhesive, I'm allergic to something that's only present in the edge of it.
* I spend the majority of Friday conscious but not really willing to do anything to head Out
* Feeling somewhat more energetic today
Labs results from the bloodwork keep popping in. There's a CT interpretation of the lower half of my abdomen, but the upper is being done separately. I'm coming to some conclusions, but I'm going to wait for my specialist to package up what I need to know. I remain optimistic.
That was the tl;dr. The long part's under the cut, mostly in bullet points because it's a lot and the writeup is approaching 2 hours as is.
Appointment Thursday went fine.
This appointment was not at the main location where I'll be getting care, but it was the location of the doctor who was going to do the CT guided biopsy, and I might as well get the CT scan with contrast done while I was in there and undressed and all. So I scoped out the trip and did my best to prepare the night before.
* ate breakfast at 5:45 and then crashed back to sleep; breakfast was a Milky Way bar.
* Found a Sharpie while I was getting dressed, considered, wrote WRONG on my left thigh, and RIGHT with an arrow pointing up towards my hip to my right hip. (I'd considered CORRECT, but RIGHT seemed funnier.)
* Got dropped off at a nearby bus stop
* Contrary to strict instructions about this appointment, had a sip of sugared soda in addition to water
* Made a Bad Decision about bus route calculation: despite having changed my plan from the initial one, kept the first directions active.
Original plan: take Local Route towards Station 1, take any number of possible transits to get between the local route to Station 2, board express bus at Station 2.
Better plan: Take Local Route all the way to Station 1, transfer directly onto express bus, which also stops at Station 1.
I got off the bus somewhat short of Station 1, following the faithful directions of the map app that still thought I was taking a tram or something. The ensuing walk to Station 1 is painful and I almost miss my intended bus.
* Boarded the bus mostly OK, with one joggle where I really should have been holding to the supports on the lift platform.
* Using a large mobility aid does have its benefits: I do not have to figure out where to sit.
* Had made a good decision with my bus pass: it was on its own lanyard around my neck and I just could take it off and hand it to the bus driver to boop me in.
* In the boop pause, I was able to look up the stop where I needed to get off; fortunately I was already familiar with that stop from working downtown.
* Rested on the bus, after getting myself buckled in (there was a lot of space in front of me for my rolly boi, and it would have gone badly in a collision were I not buckled)
* Continued taking sips of water here and there after 10am, but small enough that it would just disappear into the depths of my digestive system
* Looked at the hill, looked at my rolly boi, cut through a building lobby with an entrance on the downhill side and an entrance on the uphill side, and an elevator in between
* Missed a bus that could have waited for me if it had noticed me, while I was laboring up a hill to a bus stop
* got myself braced against a utility pole to wait for the next bus without falling down and rolling further
* attained bus
* debarked bus with no issues
* entered hospital at nearest entrance
* got routed around the ER security to go towards the West tower
* got slightly lost
* found the imaging department as laid out in my welcome info
* waited in line
* got redirected back to the Central tower
* went to the Patient Coping With This Shit office, because none of the labeled departments looked correct
* got redirected to literally the other side of the wall, three right turns
* waited in the waiting room for nearly half an hour, concerned that I might be in the wrong place again
* got taken back
* changed out of my street clothes into two gowns: one up front, and then another over my back as a jacket. I attempt to merge the garments by snapping them together, but alas this does not succeed as the gowns are not built to allow that
* but honestly they should be, with different right and left orientations so you could snap them that way, good god
* had my rolly boi admired
* My nurse for the day has a religious location type name; he is wearing a black scrubs hat and is short. He has a pronoun badge in his stack of work related identity cards, which I appreciate.
* we start out with a warm blanket hand and forearm wrap to make my blood vessels show themselves
* Is this my first biopsy? I think it is, but as he starts in the explanation I remember that yes, I in fact did get a biopsy before the yeeterus.
* I say as much. We skip the biopsy explanation.
* Do I bleed much? Well, for that one it bled pretty typically for the location at that time, but in general I do not have trouble with bleeding too much.
* None of my meds are the kind of med that will cause THAT kind of problem. "Nothing like Warfarin." "No, no rat poison, just the baby aspirin."
* had my imaging plan looked at and told that oh hey I could drink after all since I wasn't going to be knocked out, here chug this contrast
* it didn't taste good enough to drink as water
* Crystal Light fake lemonade was Fine I Guess, crappy lemonade is crappy lemonade and I was thirsty
* the advantage of this appointment is that we could run the wait for oral contrast to work through me concurrently with the biopsy portion of the program (about 45 minutes each)
* Do I have medical allergies? No, nothing that will be coming up in the context of this appointment: I'm allergic to a spermicide. ... ... Yeah, that won't be an issue.
* I had printed out a copy of my medications list; he looked it over and tried to hand it back to me. No: I'd printed it out specifically for this appointment so he could keep it. He said he'd do the data entry later. Woo!
* 3 tries to place my IV, 2 good bruises coming up and the eventual IV in the back of my right hand
* Compliments on my fake tattoo of a rainbow with a heart below it
* Stowed most of my stuff in a self-sealing green bag with a clear panel
* Didn't have to wait too long
* Stowed the last bunch of stuff in the other green bag
* Rolled off to Imaging; we talked about hair and the commute to Seattle, and grabbed an elevator going the wrong direction so we could get going the correct direction and the elevator would not be too full to accept a bed
* Arrived at the place, got me parked in a corner so the team could finish doctor talks and have the doctor arrive and make sure they got stuff moved correctly before I got shoved in
* also needed to be out of the way for someone else getting shoved down the hall
* introduced to the team, first by everyone coming around the side of my rolly bed separately as they arrived, and then again inside as a group.
* I love all of them instantly but know that their names will be as tears in the rain
* The one who's meant to keep an eye on my oxygenation has impeccable winged eyeliner and appropriately decorative eyeshadow; I like her the least but that means that I merely like her quite well enough indeed
* Got me transferred to the bed of the CT machine which fortunately I am capable of walking; doc has Estimation Skillz and he directed me to sit about 6" further down on the bed. Only had to scoot up about 1" from there.
* And do I have any medical allergies? Again: No, nothing that will pose a problem here. Spermicide. Ah. Yeah, no.
* Started my standard Medical Waiting Coping Technique of counting ceiling tiles, which I do in the longest way possible in order to use up any spare time when I can't be thinking about anything else.
* Repeated my name and birthday again, and described in my own words what we were going to do.
* Two biopsies and a CT scan (Where it's At!)
* Doctor allowed as how we were definitely biopsying The Mass and bone, but he had looked at the left-side lymph nodes from the MRI that the MRI interpreter had made !!!! thoughts about, and HE didn't see that they needed investigating. So we'd just be puncturing the one hole.
* Started getting positioned: I wanted my arms across my chest rather than up behind me, which was just fine. A support for under my knees. A velcro wrap around my knees.
* My high school fears about how much psychiatric restraint I might be subjected to due to my mental illnesses vastly overestimated things (to date, none); they did not take into account the amount of restraint for medical procedures.
* Got the "conscious sedation" pushed to my IV; I would learn later that it was the same substance as my pre-MRI anti anxiety med, same dose, just IV instead of a pill an hour beforehand.
* Got my arms strapped into place.
* They wanted to reposition my belly, and I am literally Santa Claus. Medical tape ahoy! Place this end securely on my belly skin, and puuullllll in this direction... can we stick it to the bed? No, Padawan, that part of the bed does not move with the patient, you'll have it secure it somewhere else. I offered my shoulder as an appropriate site. They ignored this, and the tape went around the back of my head and onto the other side of the semi-rigid pillow.
* this repeated for 3-4 wide strands of tape.
* it was not Duct Tape. I asked.
* This all was extremely hilarious.
* Scrubbing down my skin with antiseptic. Draping me. Making sure there was a window in the drapery so they could access the site.
* A trip into the machine; I reported that my elbow was making contact with the torus. Some arm repositioning.
* First an initial scan for baseline.
* I noticed that my wallet name was on the little screen on the front end of the machine. Cool.
* There was a countdown in big red numbers, and then the screen lit up yellow with a radiation trefoil for about a second.
* Then the scanner bed got moved around again.
* There's a screen next to me, showing several views of the first images. The screen cycles through various scanned cross-sections of me. I see my hip bones passing by. I see a tailbone. I begin to register that my bladder is that shriveled-looking thing. Beside it, shoving it to one side, is a rounded object.
* I am too chill to properly start beaming greetings and defiance at the little fucker. Not so little. But it needs to go.
* Time to place the biopsy guide. I got instructions for what to notice, namely, to please speak up if I started feeling pain instead of just pressure.
* First of course we get the initial ingress of the anaesthetic needle. Local anaesthetic. Much less unpleasant than dental anaesthesia, because while it's probably the same substance it's going into my insulation and not into a Very Delicate Part.
* Into the scanner. Some bed adjustments. The screen has several views of the first images. Mouse action from the booth, changing settings. Then the machine hums to life, I see the countdown, I see the yellow stripe on the bottom of the screen for about a second, and a new image starts to show up. More work on the screen, then an influx of medical professionals. Pressure on the biopsy site. Medical professionals out of the room back into the control booth. Repeat the process.
* I started to see a very bright white spike going through my insulation. So that's the probe. Huh. It advances by fractions of a centimeter at a time, as they slowly proceed.
* I now know how a geological feature feels when an engineer is taking a core sample.
* Eventually they make it down to The Mass, which I have been describing to myself in some wonderfully emo Homestuck terms.
* It doesn't explode
* I now know the true feeling of getting core sampled. The equipment goes *spang!* quite unexpectedly inside me.
* I do not jump off the table in surprise because I am strapped down with quite large velcroed straps.
* I do say something vaguely indignant, like "Ow!"
* n.b. that's my yellow/orange safeword
* they check in, I'm mostly just surprised
* another small eternity of *spang!* a few more times
* All done with the core sampling, there is cleanup of the general chaos to my right
* I see someone with a medical sample jar of something very pink, like blood and tissue in an unidentified liquid (Formalin, according to the after-appointment notes)
* Time for the CT scan.
* I get more contrast, this time pushed via IV.
* "Most people feel heat when it goes in"
* there are two vial things with conical bottoms and a curly hose
* the end of the hose gets attached to my IV complex
* "Do you feel it yet?"
* "No?"
* Something is spreading, starting from the middle of my belly or so and very quickly making me aware of every inch of external facing skin in my vulva. "I feel it!" Is this what Pepper felt with Extremis? It's not comfortable, but I have the comfort of knowing that I won't actually physically catch on fire and this feeling is temporary.
* It gets a little easier to bear when it's clear that it's holding steady and will not continue to increase at the very rapid ramp-up rate.
* "45 seconds, okay." From the time of starting the push until I felt it.
* Everyone retreats to the control booth again, probably.
* Machine warms up. Voice over the intercom tells me to take a breath.
* Hold it
* Okay, breathe out.
* we repeat this for a few rounds
* We're done! Total time in the scan room about an hour.
* Now we get me unstrapped, untaped, and all that. I feel exposed.
* The plan is to have me dismount on the same side I got in. No.
* My hip is the last one up onto the bed, and last one down
* We don't need to move the rolling bed, we just need to clear enough space on that side for me to walk around.
* This is acceptable
* The guy who looks a bit like my mental image of Palamades but he's about a foot shorter and Asian helps me sit up; I like him the best
* I hop into bed and someone plays dodgehall back to my original bay in the unit where I checked in
* at one point in the hallway there is a sign saying PLEASE DON'T PARK BEDS HERE
* there is a bed parked underneath it, of course
* I am eager to get something actually to eat and drink
* I ask if I get to have something to drink, and/or food
* My nurse, bless him, asks if a turkey sandwich is okay, with cheese and mustard and mayo
* also the sodas they have
* I imbibe the sweet cold nectar that is coca-cola after a day of no food
* he takes a little longer with the sandwich and it is a slightly sad cafeteria sandwich but the lettuce is crisp if a little shriveled around the edges and it has glorious carbohydrates and protein
* Belovedest is on their way
* to the wrong location, oops
* they arrive before 5
* it is extremely okay that they're going to be here because I'm the last one on the ward
* meanwhile the nurses would like to capture 9 vials of blood for the labs my orthopedic oncologist wants. (Why an orthopedic oncologist when we don't have the biopsies yet? Well, even if the fucker is benign, we'd be wanting someone like that on account of The Mass is getting sufficiently intimate with my bones. It is Double Bones With Doctor Skelebones Time.)
* unfortunately, unlike most of the times I go in for labwork, I have Not Been Hydrating.
* because, of course, of the We Don't Want To Have To Think About Your Stomach order.
* they give it the old college try
* first my nurse
* then another nurse
* eventually she gets a line into my left forearm
* I now have 6 perforations, vaguely symmetrical: backs of hands, elbows, and finally forearms
* this is not the phlebotomy department, they're just sayin'
* the rate of blood flow is not great
* she's got this tube hooked directly in, in some fashion that is not optimal for changing out the tubes; my nurse comes back with a hub and they do some swapsies
* this is messy
* there is blood spattered all over some of the tubes
* there's a drop of blood on the floor
* New nurse is worried about being able to fill all the tubes with my shriveled turnip of a hand
* I start pumping my fingers in the classic way, and that speeds up things somewhat sharpish
* all 9 filled
* My nurse is not sure what BASIC METABOLIC PANEXT means on one of the lab orders
* I suggest that it is a Basic Metabolic Panel, to be taken by an External entity, since this is not my home hospital
* they take away all the tubes
* I get a picture of the blood on the floor before they clean it up
* Belovedest is now in the correct hospital
* My nurse goes to let them in
* I get back into my street clothes
* we don't wind up finding the tiny rubber ear cushion piece from my headphones
* Finally we roll off
* Belovedest brings the car around
* traffic is ass
* I chart our course to a Trader Joe's
* we get a lot of fresh cherries
* Costco
* Belovedest refuels
* Costco is out of cherries, someone takes the last package as we arrive at the cherries display
* I'm glad I've got cherries already
* I can't take a bath when we get home because I'm not supposed to soak the biopsy site for at least 48 hours
* I notice that the edge of the dressing is itchy before I fall over in bed
* I wake up and I have a HUGE CRESCENT RAW SPOT
* we have discovered a new medical allergy
* and there's a voicemail from my nurse
* I rip off the dressing, take a picture, spray the raw spot with Benadryl, confirm that the biopsy site looks basically fine
* I give a call back and get my nurse from yesterday directly; we establish that the cool clear dressing is Tegaderm, and I'm not allergic to the adhesive, I'm allergic to something that's only present in the edge of it.
* I spend the majority of Friday conscious but not really willing to do anything to head Out
* Feeling somewhat more energetic today