So D-Day came on 11/9 and I reported dutifully to the hospital on time. I had followed directions on not eating or drinking ahead of the procedure and unfortunately this included the pain medicine that I had been prescribed. I waited until almost 11 PM before taking my dose and then tossed and turned throughout the entire night as the pain got worse and worse. By the time I got to the hospital I was easily a 7 and tried to calmly wait through the 2+ hour prep work for the procedure. When I was finally wheeled down to the procedure, I was easily a 9 with no room for small talk from the well meaning nurses. The sedation and local anesthesia certainly helped but I wouldn't be lying if I said that the next 2+ days were miserable as my body recovered from the lack of meds and procedure.
The actual biopsy wasn't that bad if you disregard the needles that I endured for blood tests, IV's and the final big pinch of a needle being driven into my spine as I lain wide awake on the CT table. The nurse reassured me with every "click" as sample after sample of the tumor was taken for lab analysis.
It's strange that the medical team doesn't want to do the cement injection that the oncologist had described just a few days prior. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad think in the long term but am slightly relieved that it's less that I have to endure today. Time will only tell....
Afterwards, I spent about two hours in the hospital room in "recovery" where I devoured the first food and drink I was able to eat in the last 14 hours. It was probably the worst chicken salad sandwich I've ever eaten in my entire lift but I was ridiculously grateful in between gulps of water.
No comments:
Post a Comment