Suck it up and suck it out!

I feel like I'm always behind when posting on my blog but sometimes it's a little easier to write things after they've already happened. Yesterday was one of those days. I don't think I could have written yesterday if I'd really wanted to because I was in so much pain.

Since surgery this past Friday, I'd been hearing a strange noise emanating from my chest cavity. It was most prevalent when I'd turn in bed, trying to find a little comfort. At first, I thought it was my imagination...surely I couldn't be sloshing...that was ridiculous. I'd just had surgery. What would have been left in my chest to make a liquid sound? The only thing I could think of was blood.

So when the doctor's office called to check on me, I knew I had to mention it, this sloshing. At first, i thought the nurse would think I was a nut case...yeah, right, Mrs. Annis...you're sloshing...okay, really? But then I figured if I didn't say anything at all, this could be an important development and it might go from interesting to serious in a short time. When the nurse asked how I was, I heard myself say, "I'm doing okay but there's this weird sloshing noise." There was a moment of silence on the phone. The nurse had to process what she just heard. Sloshing, did she say "sloshing?" When she realized I had indeed said that I was sloshing, she said she needed to talk to the doctor. She'd call me back in a little while. I waited. She called later and said she'd talked to the doctor and the doc wanted me to be seen asap. I had an appointment at 2:30 p.m. on Tuesday afternoon. I knew what was coming and I didn't want to go.

Upon arrival at the doctor's office, the receptionist greeted me. I sat in the waiting room with my daughter and my granddaughter. We watched several people come and go. When was it going to be my turn? After about fifteen minutes, I was called back and put into an exam room. The nurse was polite and said I'd only be there until the woman in the next room was done with her appointment. It seems the ultrasound machine was in the next room and they were going to need it to work on me.

After about half an hour, I wondered if they'd forgotten me. My bladder was screaming so I went out into the hallway and asked a nurse where the restroom was located. Murphy's law says as soon as you get up to go pee, the doctor will come and be ready to see you. Sure enough, it worked. While I was in the restroom, the doctor was waiting on me.

When I exited the restroom, the doctor was in the hallway. She ushered me into the ultrasound room and began talking to me. "So, I hear you're a little squishy today?" I wanted to laugh, but it wasn't funny. I told her I was pretty sloshy and she had me remove my shirt and sit up on the exam table. As she mushed around on my chest, I could see the pocket of fluid underneath my skin. She continued manipulating my chest and as she hovered over the lower right hand side, I cringed. I knew as soon as she touched me there, I was going to be in extreme pain. I winced as she pressed firmly and told her I was really hurting there. She explained it was normal for me to hurt there. That's where she removed the dead tissue on Friday. That's where she had to scrape and work so hard to take all the bad stuff out. Oh.

I watched as the doc pulled packets of gauze, some needles, some syringes, antibiotic, Lidocaine, and other items from her crash cart. As she began setting up, I knew it was not going to be pretty. She draped a blue sterile pad across my lap and laughed as she said she was going to try to keep my clothes dry.

She took a syringe and inserted a needle. Then she drew up about 300cc of Lidocaine. As she was drawing up the numbing medicine, she looked at me and smiled..."no worries, no pain for you today." I smiled back and thought I hope she's right.

An antiseptic swab was rubbed over the center of my chest and then the doc said, "little stick." I felt what amounted to a small bee sting and she said, "how was that?" I told her it wasn't bad. She waited a few minutes for the Lidocaine to kick in and then she screwed a larger needle onto the syringe. As she readied the needle, I squeezed my eyes tightly closed. I didn't want to see her insert it. I felt the pressure as the needle went in. The doc knew exactly how deep she could penetrate my skin because she'd already scanned it with the ultrasound machine. I was thankful she had one in her office!

I opened my eyes to see a syringe full of dark blood red liquid being extracted from my chest. She told me I could keep my eyes closed and I told her I'd rather keep them open. I explained that I had wanted to be in the medical field at one point in my life and the blood and gore didn't bother me. She asked why I hadn't pursued my desire to work in medicine and I told her because my life changed and I started having my family. She smiled and told me she understood.

She emptied the first syringe into the red bio-hazard container and took another from the crash cart. She plunged the needle deep into the center of my chest and drew up another full syringe of bloody fluid. This procedure was repeated for a total of 5 and 1/2 times before she stopped. On the last vial of blood, the doc told me she didn't want to suction me totally dry because my insides were so traumatized from radiation and surgery. She said they needed a little cushioning to keep things loose and where they could heal nicely.

When she was done, the doc called in her assistant. They took 2 large ace bandages and wound them tightly around my chest. The compression, she said, would help keep my chest cavity from swelling up with fluid again. As I left, she told me to check on the swelling daily. If it got worse or felt hot to touch, I needed to call her immediately. I was given a prescription for antibiotic as I left the office. The doc wanted me to take it for 10 days.

When I got home, I pulled an ice pack out of the freezer and placed it on the insertion site. I was already sore from the surgery and now the Lidocaine was wearing off leaving me in even more pain. My husband and my daughter could tell I wasn't feeling well. It had been a rough day.

What I'm thinking: 
I was thankful my breast surgeon was skilled enough to remove the fluid from my chest cavity in her office. At least I didn't have to go to the hospital and have it done. I was also thankful to know I wasn't imagining things. I really was sloshing! If this wasn't the 21st century, I might have had leeches placed all over my chest to suck out the excess drainage. I'm thankful that didn't happen. I have a pretty strong stomach but I don't think I would have done well with a bunch of blood suckers wriggling and thriving all over my middle. Ewww! In any event, I'm glad to have the drainage procedure completed. Hopefully I won't ever have to go through that again. I'm really hoping things will start to get better and better from this point onward. I'm very tired of feeling rotten and look forward to some good days. I think I deserve them. It's time for someone else to share in the suffering just a little.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Surgery again

Yesterday, I went into Piedmont Fayetteville Hospital to have my second surgery. This time I would be having a cyst removed along with some tissue that had died in the last surgery.

I arrived at the hospital shortly before 11 a.m. as instructed. My sweet daughter, Laura, was with me since my husband was unable to get off work. Around 11:30 a.m. a nurse came out to get me and take me back to the pre-surgical wing. I wasn't nervous at all and I know it was because of all the prayers going up for me.

She gave me a gown and told me to remove all of my clothes and then, she'd be back in to hook me up to an I.V. I was compliant for the most part but I didn't remove my underwear. I thought about it and decided there was no need for me to take off my panties. They weren't even going to be working remotely in that area, so I left them on. (The rebel in my strikes again!)

I got into the bed and waited. About fifteen minutes later, the nurse came back in to insert the I.V. needle. I was thankful she gave me a shot of Lidocaine first to numb the area. I didn't even feel the I.V. shunt go in. When she was done, the nurse told me she'd go get my daughter and bring her back to sit with me. I looked down at the I.V. needle she'd just placed into my hand. It didn't look like it was inserted all the way, but I figured she knew what she was doing.

Laura came back into the room with me and we talked for a while before the Anesthesiologist came in. When she came in, she asked all the routine questions : loose teeth? partials? dentures? trouble swallowing? etc. She explained they'd be inserting a breathing tube along with the anesthesia. I listened to her as she hurriedly explained each detail. She was so high strung that I commented about it to Laura after the doctor left the room. Laura assured me that the anesthesiologist must have many patients today and was just trying to move quickly so she could cover all the bases. More medical staff came in to visit - surgical nurses, a resident anesthesiologist, and Dr. Sroka's assistant. They were all very kind and reassuring.

Just before 2 p.m., Dr. Sroka came in to talk with me. She went over the procedure again and asked if I had any questions. While she was there, the nurse was at the head of my bed doing something. All of a sudden, I felt an intense burning pain in my left arm and looked down to see where it was coming from. My wrist, just about the I.V. needle began to immediately puff up and swell. As I screamed out in pain, Dr. Sroka sternly corrected the nurse and said, "You just blew her vein. What were you doing?" The nurse explained that all she'd done was grab hold of the bag of Prevacid (an antacid liquid) and force it through the I.V. Dr. Sroka told her when she did that, she ruptured my vein and she'd have to remove that I.V. and replace it with another. The nurse was not too happy about that and disagreed with the doc. I was surprised that she was defending her I.V. insertion so vehemently when it was clearly problematic.

Dr. Sroka went out and 2 nurses came in. The original nurse, the one who'd blown my vein, and another R.N. The second R.N. came over to me and said she'd be placing the new I.V. I was thankful! The first nurse might have been vindictive. The second I.V. was placed quickly and efficiently and the surgical team was ready to go. Something was inserted into my I.V. and that's all I remember until I woke up in the recovery room.

In the recovery room, the first thing I heard was an oriental nurse talking to me and telling me it was time to wake up. Her cute accent made me think one of my good friends was in the room with me (she's from China too.) As I forced my eyes to open, I saw a large clock on the wall at the foot of my bed. It was 5:05 p.m. I was surprised it was that late in the day. It seemed I'd only been there a short time. The nurse offered me some Sprite and it felt so good on my throat.

Laura came to help me get my clothes back on and I didn't realize how much pain I was in until I sat up on the bed. I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. My chest was on fire and I could feel something very tight around my chest area. I looked down and saw they'd placed a type of surgical corset on me to hold the incision tightly. I was told I'd have to wear that for the next week until Dr. Sroka had her followup visit with me.

We began the long ride home and I was so groggy. I could hardly keep my eyes open. Laura told me that it was from the leftover anesthesia in my body. Instead of going straight home, we stopped by the drugstore first to get my pain medication. I was so thankful Laura thought to do that because I needed it as soon as I got out of the car. I was also thankful they'd put a Scopalamine patch on me to keep nausea at bay during and after surgery because I began to feel a little woozy as I walked into the house.

I tried my best to stay awake long enough to have a small cup of chicken broth and some saltines. I knew I would need something on my stomach before taking my pain meds. Bedtime couldn't come soon enough for me. I was so thankful to have purchased a wedge pillow before my first surgery last year. It surely came in handy. After getting all my pillows propped up and the wedge pillow in place, I slipped into bed and slept soundly all night long.

This morning, I woke up at 6:05 a.m. I felt pretty good until I got out of bed to go to the restroom. As soon as I stood up, the pain shot through my chest and I remembered, I'd just surgery! Very slowly I walked across the room and got my pain pills. Everyone else in the house was asleep. I tiptoed into the living room to have my quiet time. As I lit a candle and pulled out my Bible, I said a prayer of thanks. I was still alive. Cancer hasn't won yet. I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Sometime this week, I'll get the biopsy reports. I'm trusting God that everything will turn out just fine. My life is in His hands and there's no place I'd rather be.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved