Backtracking…

Lil Ole Me pointed out that although I mentioned the needles in the nipple story in the Chemo post, I had never actually told it elsewhere in the blog. So…now I’m backtracking to make sense of that reference…here it is…When I had my pre-op appointment with my surgeon (soap opera doctor) before the lumpectomy…Oh my, wasn’t I a neophyte then, knowing little of hospitals, surgeries, etc….at that point only having had a biopsy (child’s play in hind sight and an angiogram that still scares the hell out of me)… Anyway, I asked the doctor what to expect when I got to the hospital. He replied that after check-in I would go to pre-op and then go to the lab for a test. He explained that some dye would be inserted in the breast for him to be able to look for the right lymph nodes (sentinel node, I think it was), aligned with the tumor. He said it would sting. When I went to pre-register at the hospital and talked to the nurse, I asked her about the dye thing and the sting. She said…qualifier…that all health professionals seem to use…”Well, I’ve never had it done,”… but I understand from other women that it hurts. O.K. we went from sting to hurt. Once in the hospital and all pre-op done…Here’s an aside…the nurse had a difficult time getting the IV needle in. It really hurt and continued to hurt throughout the day…Actually, I asked anyone who would listen if it looked right because it hurt; and, secretly, I didn’t want anything to impede the administration of drugs that would put me out for this surgery. She could not have done it exactly right, because I had a huge bruise on my inner arm for more than a week later. Anyway, pretty soon they came to get me for the lab. Krista was able to come along and wait with me in the hallway before they took me in. They said she could wait just a little ways away and they would get her back when I came out. So, I got rolled into the lab. A nice girl, named Marisol prepped me for the insertion of the dye. I asked her about it. Again, I got the qualifier and a similar response that it hurts. When I asked about the intensity and longevity of the hurt, she said it would be four different needle insertions into the nipple, but that it was quick and when it was over, it was over. I was thinking that I could probably handle that. In came the doctor. He was Asian. Absolutely no offense, bias, prejudice here, but this was a day after an Asian man’s picture had been all over the news for killing 32 people at Virginia Tech. The doctor reminded me of the pictures of that murderer. He came around and asked if I knew what he was going to do. I repeated the four-needles-directly-into-the-nipple scenario. He then said, completely dead pan, “This is going to hurt!” I thought he was semi-kidding or something and would continue on with some misnomer, but he appeared to be quite, quite serious. I probably said, “O.K.” and answered in the affirmative when he asked if I was ready? Were there choices here? I don’t think so… So, he walked around in back of me, I imagine to get the four needles. When he came around again, approaching from the back, he asked the girl if she was ready. Yes, she was. He approached my left side. Again, completely dead pan, he said, “You might want to grab a hold of something.” I asked, “Are you kidding because you’re scaring me?” He replied that he was not kidding, that some women have a reflex action. Looking back, I’m thinking some women have come up with a jab to the jaw, which I think he deserved for talking to me like that, but anyway…I said, “What would you like me to hold on to?” Oh, believe me, if only I could relive that moment…I wouldn’t have to ask what to grab a hold of….you know that old joke about the old lady and the dentist…she grabs a hold of something of his and says, “Now, Mr. Dentist, if you hurt me, I’ll hurt you!” Anyway, Marisol stepped in at that point and said, “You can hold on to me, “ and she took my right hand in hers. With my left hand I grabbed the rail under the bed. He inserted the first needle…yeah, it hurt, but it wasn’t earthshattering…second needle…Dr. Personality says, “You’re doing very well. Some people are screaming by now.” Third needle, fourth needle, all done. He left. I got wheeled back into the hallway to wait for when they would bring me back in to take the pictures of the dye. Krista came back, and I told her the story of the doctor. When I got wheeled back into the lab room, there was another young man there, I said to Marisol, “Can you believe what that doctor said to me?” She said she had just been telling the other young man about it. I guess it was not a regular occurrence for the radiologist to try to scare the hell out of the patient right before a procedure. So, now you can see why the oncology nurse at the Institute telling me that she was going to sting me didn’t exactly send me running to the nearest exit. Actually, one more comment about her…I don’t think it was appropriate for her to tell me that when you’re in my situation, you have to expect to be poked and prodded. I think a better response would have been that she’s seen this many times, it’s no big deal, and it would only take a minute. Philosophizing about where I am in life right now was probably not what I needed that day…