lymph node removal

i will not remember all of this

so...went in at 6:30.  the promised valet parking wasn't there.  no worries.  son dropped me off, found a parking space, then came back.

it was in the same building as radiation, so it wasn't hard to find.  it was on the floor above it

so, i went in, and waited in the waiting room with the son.  he talked of the snow coming to the north, the great weather coming to us, and stuff.

i talked to the admitting person.  since i already paid the co-pay over the phone, it was an easy process.  bracelet on the left hand, and then a bit more of a wait.

then i went in.  alone.

i was asked to change into a gown. (a plastic lined disposable one.)  also socks.  (the same purple grippy socks i had had for the bone marrow biopsy.)  then, because i looked apprehensive, they offered to have my son come in and stay with me.

he did

he talked of "godspell" (the auditions.... he ended up singing as judas.  he thinks he did good, and would be surprised if he didn't get a good role.)

we waited.  uneasy talk.  it's hard to come up with a conversation to talk to with your mother when she's a basket case, but he did good.

the nurse came in to check vitals.  she found out why i was there.  she said she hoped they didn't find anything.  i said i hoped so, too.

she started to put an iv in my hand.  that's the time my son thought it was a good idea to distract me by saying that another girl was after him.  he said he didn't want to pursue someone so soon after the breakup, but that he was flattered.  he was amazed that girls were after him,  he didn't see what they saw in him.  the nurse said that sounded like her brother.  i started singing "that's what makes you beautiful.... you don't know you're beautiful..."

my son said that i shouldn't know that song, because it's not of my generation.  heck, it wasn't even of his generation. we both giggled.

there was no need to distract, though.  the nurse had numbed the area around the iv before putting the iv in my hand.  good woman.  she started me on saline, and was gone.

i let my son talk a little bit longer, then bade him go.  he was yawning, and the conversation was ebbing away.  he asked if i were sure.  i was.  i wanted him to get coffee.... to read.... to memorize his lines for the play he was in....

i wanted him to live....

it was a good move to have him go.  soon, an electrocardiogram man came in.  he asked my name.  (which is what all the nurses asked, to insure that things got done to the right person.)  i told him.  he did not ask my birth date.  soon, he was engaging me in small talk, while hooking me up to an ekg.  i had had one in the past, so i thought it wasn't out of line to get one now.  he was at the point of connecting the stickers on my body to the wires on the machine when he said..."you know what... is this area 4?"

it wasn't. i didn't know that, but he found out.

soon, i was unhooked, and un-stickered.

yeah.

he left, and i tried to re-cover my self as best as i could.

(edit: somewhere around here, the anesthesiologist came in.  he was calm, polite, and reassuring.  he didn't have any details on what the doctor was going to do.  he just knew he had enough drugs to knock me out all day, if i needed it.  good man. i should invite him to one of my birthday parties.)

soon after, the surgeon came over.

"are you ready for this?  well, as ready as you are going to be?"

i nodded.

"left arm, right?'

"um.... no.  under my right armpit."

"oh...yeah.  sure."

he took a pen out and drew a squiggle on my right shoulder.  then, he checked my record.  nodding and smiling, he said "see you in a little while."

and then he was gone

i shook inside.  earlier, i had felt like my bones were cold.  not my skin.  not my muscles....but my very bones.

it was a hard feeling to let go of.

soon, a nurse came to wheel me out.  she asked my name, and birthdate.  she helped me to the wheelchair, and hooked my iv to the stand connected to it.

by then i was the last person in the area.  there had been a young girl there, who cried on the way to the surgery.  her parents couldn't go with her to the operating area, which was sad.  it might have helped her....

i got wheeled into the operating area.  it was warm  (per the surgeon's instructions.)  the nurse helped me lie down on the table.  there was a foam-ish pillow under my head.  they wrapped plastic things around my legs.  another woman asked what my blood pressure usually was.  she nodded when i told her.... my low blood pressure always seems to catch medical people off guard.

someone put a mask loosely over my mouth and nose, without strapping it on.  she said that i would be getting oxygen at first.  they attached planks to the table so i could rest my arms on them.  i heard the sound of anonymous country music.... they said now they would be giving me the anesthetics .....

and soon i was off to sleep.

i woke up in bed.  i was very foggy.  the nurse fed me ice chips for a-while.  another nurse removed the leg coverings.  i was asked if i were ok.  it took a moment... then a moment more... as if i were a flower slowly opening up.....

a flower being encouraged to bloom faster in a non-pressure-like way.

i was wheeled back to the area i was before.  i teared up, waiting for my belongings, my bearings, and my son.  a nurse came by and said "oh no, it'll work out.  you're going to be fine, right?"  i said yes, it was just nerves.... she nodded, and understood.

soon, my son was there, and was nervously glad to see me.  he stepped into the hall while i changed back into my clothes.  it wasn't hard, but i wasn't a hundred percent there, so i went slow, even though it seemed like i was being rushed.  (i totally get that attitude, though.  if i wasn't encouraged on, i would have lingered, and wallowed, and that wouldn't have been good at all.)

they gave me a pepsi (my choice) and then water.  they told me not to get my incision wet, and taught me how to work the drain i was wearing. (a jackson-pratt drain... i'd never had one before.)   i was encouraged to get an appointment with the surgeon to get the drain out (which i got for as soon as possible -- seven days later.)

then my son got the car, and i was wheeled to the curb, and sent home.

i wasn't hungry, but i knew i had to eat.  so, to qdoba we went, with good queso, good burrito, and good talk.  as i ate, i got hungrier.  it helped to be eating something that felt healthy, and light.

i must still drink water.  i must try to up my fiber for at least a little while, because of the meds.  i must take it easy if i want to go back to work wednesday.

i must stop writing about this, huh?

i'll try to sleep.  i really didn't think i would write about it so soon, but i'm glad i can remember things... and i went with it.

here's to an easy week..... and hope for a good prognosis.  i won't think about it until i get the call from my oncologist.  if i do, i'll go mad.....

hope