Thursday, February 10, 2011

I'd rather have a colonscopy (m)

It's over.  They found 2 polyps which they sent to the lab for assessment.  This was my second colonoscopy; they found 1 polyp last time which was five years ago  Not a problem then.  Not anticipating one now but not taking anything for granted.

My husband drove me to the hospital for the procedure and left me off at the main entrance of Beth Israel Deaconess.  Got up to the third floor and checked in.  Got my yellow paper bracelet with my name on it.  Next stop: Waiting Room.  Full of people, waiting to be called.  An elderly woman with a shaky voice comes in and identifies herself as a volunteer and asks if we have any questions.  Some wise-ass asks if we can eat.  The Volunteer says, "Oh no, dear, not yet."  Obviously, they aren't trained to spot humor.

They call us in in batches...five at a time.  We each get taken back to an area that looks like the ER and get assigned a room and are told to get into the johnnies and put our belongings in a plastic bag.  You probably don't want to hear this but I had a flashback to the night I brought my mother into the Emergency Room.  My legs were shaking and I felt like crying (but didn't).  The nurse came in to take my vital signs, hook me up to an IV, stick an oxygen thing up my nose and ask a bunch of questions.  This exactly mirrored what my mother went through in the ER.  I started to lose it.  She reassured me that the procedure wasn't that bad.  I didn't get into the real reason for my distress.

Tried to take my mind off everything and opened my book: Cutting for Stone.  Wouldn't you know that the page I was reading was about a bowel obstruction?  Put the book down and tried to nap.  Thirty minutes later, I got wheeled into the procedure room.  I told the doctor and nurses that I didn't want anesthesia (I don't like meds; don't like feeling out of control). They started without and it felt like I sat on a garden hose so I begged for a hit of something.  Felt "tugging" but no pain.

Thirty minutes later, I was wheeled into the Recovery Room.  Still hooked up to blood pressure cuff, IV drip and oxygen nose thingie.  Called the nurse and told her to unhook me so I could get dressed to go home.  She said I had to pass gas first.  I'm sorry, but I would rather die than do that in front of someone.  She waited with her arms crossed.  I promised to tell her when I was "ready."  Is there anything more degrading?

Got unhooked and dressed.  T was there, behind my curtain waiting for me to come out.  He hates hospitals and had that "stricken" look on his face that he gets every time he's in a hospital.  He holds his breath and won't eat for a day and washes his hands over and over like Lady Macbeth.

He asked how it went but prefaced it with, "No details, please!"  I told him, "Fine."  You know more about it than he does now.

Got to the skating rink to pick up Harrison who said the battery died in the car.  I'm still loopy from the meds and I'm jumping a car in the parking lot.  Beautiful.

Get home and the boys want to know what's for dinner.  Made chicken stir fry and rice.

Reflecting upon the day, the colonscopy was the highlight for me.

No comments:

Post a Comment