My surgery is scheduled for 10:30, but I have to check in at 7:30 for, "prep." I don't have much expectations, but I know my surgeon wants my tumor marked with a wire and my lymph nodes traced with blue dye. So I wait in "nuclear medicine," for the blue dye procedure. The Dr. is a half hour late and makes me extremely anxious. Finally he arrives and he happens to only have one leg due to a history of bone cancer. I have no choice but to get over my frustration because there really isn't a better excuse for being late than having to get yourself around on one leg to your career of being a Dr and helping people and savings lives. I immediately feel like a POS.
That part took all of 10 minutes and was mostly just annoying but tolerable, and now I'm on my way back to radiology for the wire placement. This is where it turns into a torture chamber. Apparently I have to sit straight up inside a mammogram machine for an entire hour while they use x-ray pictures to find my tumor and poke at it with a hollow lance using nothing more than lidocaine (which they didn't really allow enough time to set in). Each time they re-set the hollow needle they have to take a picture which means I remain naked, seated upright, squeezed in a vice with a giant needle sticking out of me and tears streaming down my face. The Dr. tries to make small talk with me and asks if I have any kids. Really? I'd just appreciate you rushing this procedure as fast as possible with little to no talking as I'm in quite an uncomfortable and inappropriate position. Finally they find their sweet spot and thread a wire through the tumor leaving half of it sticking out of my chest. I felt pretty much all of it. And complained to everyone that would listen. No one seemed to care much. I'm getting hungry and I'm in pain and no one so much as pats me on the head.
Now I'm wheeled into pre-op where they start the IV. This also pretty much sucks. The nurse has a gold piece of flair that says she's worked there for 15 years. That makes me want to feel better, but since I've already been poked several times this morning, it doesn't. She ties the blue band to make my veins bulge and actually uses the slapping method making me frown in discouragement. After she places the IV, I tell her it doesn't feel right and it's uncomfortable. Her obvious suggestion is moving it. That doesn't sound like fun either so I suck it up and STFU. When I get wheeled in front of my operating room the anesthesiologist hooks me up to my cocktail. It burns like fire and I instantly burst into tears. "Well, that's not right... must be something wrong with the IV." All I could do was sob in response. I was passed out moments later and he did move the needle but I still don't think it was right because both entry points were badly bruised after I left the hospital:
So from there I was discharged and went home. I slept a lot used many ice packs and a few weeks later I received a nice hematoma where my lymph nodes were removed and a nice hefty bill for my out of pocket expenses towards my yearly max.
The good news was that there was no metastasis and my lymph nodes were clear. The one silver lining to end this entry on a high note :)
