Friday, 7/6/07
Scheduled for 0730(AM). They want me ther by 0530. No food or liquids after midnight. I' m stressed. That's my excuse to drink until midnight. we arrive at the hospital by cab at 0500ish. Can never tell when I cab is gonna arrive. We fill out some forms, register and wait. Soon we're taken back to a pr-op area. I strip down and put on a gown. Georgetown is a teaching hospital. We fall asleep. Around 0715 the residents and post-docs come in. Post docs are eagerly asking med history questions while the anesthesiologist resident proceeds to miss my vein. Twice. I warned him about it and tried to make him relax. I hate students. At some point the Surgeon came in. He was of my least concern
The anesthesiologist comes in, all grumpy that I'm not ready and orders us to surgery. She 's about as unpleasant as can be. Kind of funny that she makes me nervous. The anesthesiologist makes me nervous. That's Funny in that Dark twisted Terry Gilliam black comedy funny way.
I seem to fear things too much lately. It makes me nervous. Mortality sucks.
I kiss Dani goodbye and head of to surgery. Walking. I'm more than a little comforted that her friend, Miyun, will be keeping her company while I'm in surgery. I always worry about Dani worrying about me. She's waited through all my CT scans, PET scans, MRI's, and this will be the 2nd surgery of mine she's waited. and worried. I've never waited for a loved one in surgery. I can't imagine how horrible that is. And I often go into scans thinking how horrible it would be for Dani if something went wrong and she was left alone.
So going into surgery knowing someone was taking care of her was a huge relief to me. And I needed it almost as much as she.
For if this is how out patient surgery is, then it's a cold, comfort-less place. I walked past people shooting the shit. Into the surgery room and onto the table. Each worker had there job. And once again I felt like a specimen. Another resident got the IV into me. Got it on the first try, smaller needle, wrist of my other arm. I hate wrist sticks.
fucking amateurs.
I was nervous still and they could tell. I warned them earlier that I seem to be resistant to local anesthetic - that i needed 3 shots at the dentist and I came out during a colonoscopy. I would be getting gas and locals through the IV.
I new the lymph node was deep. I knew the doc would be using the MRI images to locate it. I knew he seemed worried about its depth/location. I know he'll take a slice and send it to pathology then remove the whole node if pathology thinks it "might be a good idea." I knew I really didn't want Cancer again. It was gonna be at least 2hrs of surgery. Half of it waiting? I was concerned about that.
The anesthesiologist put the mask over my mouth and asked me to take a few deep breaths, saying it was just oxygen and to relax. I was stressed. I knew it wasn't just Oxygen........why do they say that, I thought to myself..........................................................................................I knew Dani was being taken care of...................................................................................................I need to relax..............................................................................................................................everything will be OK......................................................................................................................
...............................someones shoving a pill in my mouth. Did she say "Percocet"? I believe I mentioned a serious headache and nausea. I'm having a hard time opening my eyes. Dani tries to get me to drink some liquid. I feel sick afterwards. She gives me a cracker. I feel sick. It's 1030. I've been out of surgery for an hour and I'm still a vegetable. I'm fucked. Guess they took my warning to heart.
I saw my doc. The cells were atypical so they removed the whole node. Fuck. I had a drain in that would need to be removed the next day. "Atypical". Not a worry to someone who has never had cancer. But a worry to me. Still, the diagnosis is inconclusive.
I don't remember much. I was coming in and out of unconsciousness. we were basically kicked out of post-op because I could just as well "sleep at home". Kicked out by wheel chair. Sat in the waiting room while Dani worked to get a cab. I was faintly aware of people all around me. As my head bobbed. At the cab door the hospital worker warned me to "use the door". And so I did. I clung to the cab door to get up from the wheelchair and into the cab.
Beautiful patient care.
In the cab I continued to fight unconsciousness and nausea. i would wake up and wonder why we were "still" wherever we were. The ride seemed to last forever. Dani confirmed the cabbie was driving slow as fuck and might have been on something himself.
I've been under anesthesia a few times. It was never this bad. In retrospect I wonder if I had a hard time making it back from the "brink"?
Once home I headed to the bedroom and crashed. Next thing I knew it was 4:30PM. I hurt and was sick. I popped another Percocet or two before going to bed that night. Don't really remember much else. Had the worst dreams of my Life. Very restless night. Ten times worse than when I was taking that Valium derivative during chemo. I dunno how anyone gets hooked on this shit. I would have much preferred Vicodin.
Fucking amateurs.
Pet Scan
MRI
Surgery
PET scan showed "unusual" activity. MRI confirmed it. Surgery finds "atypical cells". It's been a Month now and all they can say is "atypical". Which is everything but inactive immune cells. This shit has been given a name by someone else fighting cancer:
DIAGNOSTIC PURGATORY
And still, I hope to God I don't have Cancer again. I think I'll know in 12 hours. Hopefully.
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