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