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| Fashion Maven |
Arose at 4:45 AM and hit the gym, to groggy to be frightened - pushed the peddles on the Exercycle for 20 minutes, did some light weights and stretches. Arrived back at the condo 30 minutes later ready for a snack and remembered that I was not allowed any food or drink past the previous midnight. I took the shower the hospital recommended using an antibiotic soap and swallowed my morning dose of vitamins with a sip of water, resisting the urge to chug a large glass.
Collie and I arrived at the hospital for the appointed 6:30 AM check in, found our way to Outpatient Surgery Registration on the third floor. A glamorous looking woman was sitting behind a computer. Without glancing up, she extended a long perfectly manicured index finger, pointed to a kiosk, and said, "Check in there and then have a seat. Someone will call you." I did as told, thinking how warm and fuzzy this greeting was NOT. A few minutes later a disembodied male voice called, "Marla!" I glanced around and couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Collie pointed into a cubicle behind a barrier and said, "Over there." Sure enough, a young man was sitting behind a computer and beckoned me to a chair in front of his station. First question, "What is your date of birth?" Then he requested my ID and medical card, gave me a couple of consent forms to sign and asked if I had any allergies. I reminded him that I had completed the online questionnaire last week and everything was on there, except I had forgotten to disclose the heart murmur. Slightly more warm and fuzzy that the first women, he said, "Take a seat. Someone will get you."
In a few minutes a large nurse in navy scrubs arrived and said, "Follow me" in a very busk manner. Another Nurse Ratchet type. Where do they get these women? Collie and I were passing glances back and forth each time she spoke. She led us into a small room, asked my birth date, took my oxygen level and weighed me telling me the weight was in kilos for the anesthesiologist. The tone of her voice and manner never changed when she again said, "Follow me." She led us down winding newly decorated halls into a pre-op room and rattled off instructions. Thank goodness for Collie's help. She instructed me to disrobed except for panties, put on the drawstringed pants, the huge gown (tie in back) and gram non-slip booties. I did as I was told. Collie tied the gown as best he could considering it was missing one tie. I was the height of hospital patient fashion. I made myself comfortable on the bed.Collie and I had a good giggle about his problem with orientation. We call him U-Turn Collie. Each time we emerge from an elevator or parking garage, he inevitably turns the wrong way.
A slender nurse in colorful scrubs arrived and introduced herself as Ashley, saying she would be attending me until surgery. After the other greeters, she was a cheerful ray of much needed sunshine. I automatically recited my birth date and we both laughed. She took my blood pressure (121/58. I am usually around 117/68), reviewed my health history and said that she would prepare a special allergy bracelet (sulpha, lidocaine, adhesive tapes). She explained that she would insert an IV and I would be taken to radiology, back to this room, to a joint conference with the surgeon Dr. Rosenthal, introduced to Dr. Zimmerman the anthologist, taken in to OR where I would be given a general anesthetic, and then into recovery. Ashley explained that my IV drip contained some electrolytes and a light narcotic.
After I told her I had difficult veins she assessed my left hand, slapped a heat pack on it and expertly found a vein she liked. In went the needle with only one sharp pinch and I was hooked up to the IV. She brought me warm blankets, asked if we wanted the TV on (no) and bustled out. She checked on me a couple of times and we had and conversations about where we each lived in the city, children, grocery markets, and lobbying the legislature. She was efficient and likeable and not put off by all my questions.
Tim arrived to take me to radiology. I automatically recited my birth date and he checked my bracelet. I wanted to walk, but he said hospital policy prohibited this. I got into the extra-large wheel chair. It felt very luxurious.He told me to hold the IV tubes so they wouldn't get tangled in the wheels, held the drip and off we went, back down to the first floor, followed by Collie. I was freezing and he stopped for more warm blankets. He was handsome and young and we had fun. I asked if his driver's license was current as we dodged gurneys and wheel chairs and backed into the elevator, He left me in a hall of the mammogram section where this had all begun back in March, telling Collie that this was as far as he could go with me and please wait in the adjoining room.
Kim arrived, asked my birth date, and wheeled me into a special mammogram room and explained the procedure. I would be marked, placed in the x-ray machine with my right breast compressed tightly, all the while in the wheel chair and the IV dripping. Dr. Kendall, the radiologist I had requested would numb my breast and inject a needle from the inside of my breast past the titanium clip that had been left as a marker during the last biopsy, and thread a wire through the needle, and then withdraw the needle, leaving the wire that would guide the surgeon. She asked me about my allergies and was concerned how to tape down the wire.
Kim got me up to the machine and positioned me, disinfected my breast, and identified it with a big black "Yes," I noticed the name on the equipment was Selenia and wondered if it had been named for a particular woman and why. I regret not asking the question. Kim took a test picture and left to get Dr. Kendall.
Dr. Kendall and I greeted each other like old friends and I thanked him for arranging his schedule so he could be here today. He said that he glad he could do so. We addressed the allergic reaction I had had with the lidocaine he had used to numb me during the last biopsy. He said he was using something else this time, which he injected, followed by the needle. All this done quickly and within my vision.
I yelped with a sharp pain at one point, saying it felt as though the needle was about to pass through the other side. He injected more numbing agent and said it was very close. Once he was satisfied by the arrangements, he had Kim shoot an x-ray. He reported that everything was in place and he could see the titanium clip.
I was repositioned slightly and another x-ray was taken from the top. Dr. Kendall explained that they wanted to triangulate so Dr. Rosenthal could pinpoint the exact spot of the troublesome cells. He announced to Kim and I that the shots were perfect. He showed me a picture of my breast pierced by the wire, the titanium clip as sharp as a bell. The wire had traveled slightly past the clip, just as he wanted. The end of the wire was at right angles to the inside of my breast and there were a few drops of blood, which he blotted. My breast was purple from the disinfectant, black where the "Yes" had been written, and slightly red around where the needle and wire had gone in.
I asked Dr. Kendall what instruments Dr. Rosenberg would use. He showed his admiration for her by saying how careful and thorough she was, telling me that she would probably use several instruments, including a scapula and knife. This was enlightening. I had not thought it would be that invasive.
Dr. Kendall wished my luck and left me to Kim, who taped the wire to my breast with paper tape and prepared me for the journey back to the third floor. I felt no discomfort, except when I bent my left wrist too much and the IV needle was disturbed. Kim told me that she had had the same procedure and shared that most women were brave, but some did not want to watch as I had. She returned me to the hall where I was met by Collie and my driver Tim.
Back up to the pre op room where we were greeted by Ashley, who before arranging me in the bed told us that I would soon be wheeled into the operating room. I went to the bathroom, which was quite an operation. Ashley led the way, hung the IV and left me to keep the tubes off the floor while untying the surgical pants, squatting, wiping, flushing and washing. I figured it all out and returned to the bed.
Tim arrived again very soon and I transferred to a gurney. He pulled the sides up and starting pushing, stopping for more warm blankets. We pulled up in front of the waiting room. He told Collie he would be waiting here, and introduced him to the smiling volunteer who would give him snacks. He had had nothing but coffee. Collie kissed me and off we wheeled.
Tim parked me in a hall with views of operating rooms, skillfully placing me beside a wall at the end of a line of gurneys holding others waiting for the knife. We had passed the recovery room, where I saw lines of women dressed as I, lying prone on their backs, mouths agape. I pictured myself soon being in this undignified state.
I had just been settled in the hall when Tim returned saying he was taking me to a pod for a consultation with Dr. Rosenthal. "A pod?" "It sounded like something to blast off from into outer space."
"No it is just a tiny room anchored here in the hospital."
Once again, Tim showed his driving skills by backing me into this tiny space with out scraping a wall, unlike others before him. From my prone place on the gurney, the wall showed many mishap-scars. Collie was ushered in, followed by a nurse who introduced herself and said she would be attending in the OR, Dr. Rosenthal and Dr. Zimmerman, the anesthesiologist. Dr. Rosenthal, a very tiny woman dressed in green surgical scrubs, with the long grey/blond hair I had admired during our first meeting tucked up under her cap. Collie was standing behind me, with the doctors crowded into the remaining space. Dr. Rosenthal spoke in a soft but firm no-nonsense manner, examined my breast, telling me that she could find no sign of the lump she felt when she examined me after the first biopsy. She also explained the goal of the operation: to remove the A-Typical cells along with the titanium clip, and a lump of flesh about the size of a quarter. The lump would be x-rayed on the spot to be sure it contained the clip and sent to be biopsied. She explained the risks - not getting the clip, mistakes, etc. She hoped the biopsy would be back by our post-op appointment tomorrow afternoon, but it could take up to 48 hours for the results. She wrote me a prescription for pain and another for nausea, both just in case.
Dr. Rosenthal left the room and Dr. Zimmerman took her place. She was a woman in her late 40s, efficient with her questions, put personable. We reviewed my allergy to sulpha and tapes, and the fact that my H2o was only 90. She thought that was a miss read, but said she would give me a general anesthetic as a precaution, so she could control my breathing. She said that they usually send people home on oxygen with that kind of read. Collie, who is very knowledgeable about medical matters, agreed it was probably a miss read taken by Nurse Ratchet. He said she should have retaken it.
We had a brief conversation about my niece a nurse anesthesiologist. I told her that her profession wasn't much liked by some doctors and some states. Her face tightened and said that they were not welcomed in Utah.
It was about 10:00 AM. The surgery would take about an hour and half. Dr. Rosenthal herself wheeled me into the OR. I was transferred to the operating table, the team introduced themselves and I went nightie night!
About two hours later, I awoke and seemed alert, although I at this time I can't recall much about the recovery room except that I chugged down a glass of cranberry juice and ate some graham crackers, the nurses were all cheerful, not a Nurse Ratchet among them. I was wheeled back into the pre op room and greeted by Collie and Ashley. I got dressed and back into the wheel chair and outside to the pickup area where Collie had the car waiting. He asked me what I wanted. I said a small soy late, please. He drove me to the Jack Mormon Coffee Company which is right in our neighborhood. I got my late and he bought me a treat of coffee beans covered in dark chocolate, and we drove home. It felt good to have walked into the coffee house and back to the car and from the car into our condo on my own power, although I was thankful for Collie's steadying arm.
Collie got me all comfortable on the chaise in the living room, with the remains of the late, water, my phone and my Nook. He left to do errands, including getting the prescriptions filled. I immediately fell asleep. When I awoke, he was back and I felt great. I went to my computer to catch up and didn't feel so great. I was attack by a headache and a bout of nausea. The toilet was usefully close by. I returned to the chaise.
Collie left to eat pizza and pick his fantasy football team. He won his league last year and told me that this year he had done much more research, and hoped it wouldn't jinx him. He wanted to be sure I would be comfortable and asked if I wanted anyone with me, concerned that I would be compulsive and finish this. I said no to the to the companion. I was still at my computer when he returned about 10:00 PM. Does he know me or what?
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