Short Straw

“Honestly, I kind of drew the short straw.”

That’s how the nurse explained to me how it came to be that SHE would be the one performing my duplex ultrasound. Nice, huh? You see, I had asked if Beautiful Daughter could come into the room with me and watch the test because she is thinking of different career paths she might be interested in investigating. The nurse said, “Well, let me tell you a few things and then you can decide if you want her in here or not”, and then proceeded to tell me the following:

“This is a very intensive ultrasound requiring quiet and you being exposed to a certain extent. I will use a sheet to cover you as best I can, but your daughter may be able to see more than you want her to. This is a very long procedure and you will be in here for over an hour. I don’t mind if your daughter comes in here but you need to know that I’ll need quiet and no distractions because this test is so difficult since we are looking at blood vessels. No one likes to do this test. Honestly, I kind of drew the short straw.”

Always being sympathetic to the pain of others, I replied…

“Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?” And with that, I opened the door, summoned Beautiful Daughter from the waiting room and informed her that she could watch.

So, that was yesterday… This was my appointment that had followed my first appointment to begin working on my lymphedema. You may or may not recall that lymphedema is a common side effect from radiation. It is the swelling and pain associated with the radiation you received, wherever you received it. My lymphedema encompasses my entire left arm from shoulder to fingertips. Swollen. Painful. Remember Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka? The girl who swelled up like a gigantic blueberry and had to be “juiced”? That’s my left arm. So, my first appointment yesterday was with the lymphedema specialist to reduce the swelling via massage. Now THAT was a great appointment! Anyway, after that was the ultrasound and then there was today…

My appointment card read “CT Scan” with the date and time on it. That was it. So, imagine my surprise when I checked in and they handed me two liters of sodium bicarbonate to drink. I asked for a straw. The straw stood straight up in the thick, gloop. Oh my word. This stuff makes me so sick. I had not asked anyone to come with me because I was thinking it would be a simple CT Scan. How can one person be THIS wrong, THIS many times?

So I took the two liter bottles of gloop and sat down. There must be some mistake. Wouldn’t Dr. Horn have told me so I could prepare myself mentally? Emotionally? No. He knows me. Surprise attacks work best. I sat there looking at the bottles. I read the ingredients. I asked for a straw. I gagged just thinking about it. I asked the check in lady if there had been some mistake. She checked. No, there had not. Ugh. I sat back down. I pinched my nose and took some through the straw. Gawwwwwwwwwwwd. It was awful. I felt like I was going to be sick. I wasn’t. I drank some more but not before a good ten minutes had passed.

I drank a sip here, a sip there. Gagging each time. I could feel my stomach churning and turning. This was not going to turn out well. Finally, after about thirty minutes, the radiologist called my name. I showed her how much I had managed to get down and she took me back anyway. She took the unopened liter of gloop and returned it to the refrigerator. She took me to a little room by myself because she said I “looked green”. I sat there…I sipped a couple more and then she decided that I was probably one sip away from vomiting, so she let me call it quits.

I was escorted into the CT room and told to lie down. I asked if I needed to remove my prosthetic bra and she said no. I laid down and they put the pillow under my knees. The IV was wheeled around so that they could put the dye in. Excuse me? Why did I drink that stuff if you are going to inject me with die? What kind of test is this?!?!?!? At this point, shouldn’t you people have enough technology to do these tests without killing or torturing the patient?

Apparently not.

I was hooked up and knew the needle was not in right. The nurse said “It’s in, but not in good”, so she taped the needle to my arm with about 8 pieces of tape. Now, I am not a phlebotomist, but even I could tell this wasn’t going to work. Sure enough, the needle came out before the test ever began. Upon trying to re-stick me, my vein blew. Shocking, I know.

They tried again which included not only sticking me but also "rooting around" and "digging" for a vein. I then entered the circular machine only to have them pull me right back out because I actually DID have to remove my prosthetic bra. Now, since I have an IV in my arm, that meant they had to take my bra off for me. So, they rolled me, unhooked my bra, rolled me back, ran the bra through my sleeves and then let it dangle from my wrist because of the IV being attached. Seriously. Where’s the hidden camera???

The test is re-started. The test is stopped. I knew it was coming because I could feel the radioactive solution dripping from my arm. The nurses literally ran back in, yanked the needle that wasn’t in, and slapped a blood pressure cuff on my upper arm. They had warm washcloths wrapped around the bottom portion of my arm and began to squeeze. I guess they were trying to get the solution that had not gone into the vein but instead into my body, out. Nothing like seeing the people in charge panic…

My arm swelled up. The IV site was blue and purple and swelling as I watched. I felt pretty sick. I felt pretty upset. I felt pretty alone. I felt like crying, so I did.

This nonsense went on for four veins. The fourth vein was located in my hand. Now, if you have a difficult stick, you start at the hand so you can work your way up the arm. These people had started in my arm and were now trying to hit a vein in my hand. Even I knew this was stupid but for some reason I just laid there and let them because, as usual, I am convinced everyone with scrubs on knows more than I do.

Idiot.

I took it for as long as I could and between my sobbing and their incompetence, I gave up. I looked at the nurses (there were now three of them), and said “I just can’t do this anymore. Please stop.” The last straw was when one of them said, “If this one doesn’t work, we will have to hit the foot.” Uh, no you won’t because I quit.

They performed the CT Scan without contrast…without dye…but with a lot of tears.

They helped me up. They held up a sheet so I could put my bra back on. They escorted me out, apologizing the whole way. In fact, one of them may have even offered to buy me a candy bar from the vending machine. I’m just not sure…

Before I ever got into the truck, I called Big Daddy. I hate calling him when I am upset and crying, but I really had no choice. If I didn’t talk to him, I was never going to calm down and I had to get to work. He answered and was very sweet, of course. He calmed me down and said from now on, they get two tries. If they can’t hit the vein in two tries, we don’t do the test. Deal.

I left the parking lot, called a couple of people, and checked the console in the Suburban for some chocolate. I came on into work and everyone just knew. It was pretty easy to see that I had been crying and was still upset. Of course, I also had the other tale-tell signs of bandages and cotton balls with tape over them. Everyone was very kind and sympathetic, just as they always are when I am having a rough time.

I’m not sure if Dr. Horn will re-order the test or not, but what I do know is that a soldier fights better when they have proper gear…and my veins are not fit for battle anymore and I am down to one arm for needle sticks for the rest of my life.

Some days it just gets very hard to keep going…and then I remember that this isn’t about me or for me. This fight is for my family and my friends. That there are some people out there who really do care about me and love me. Our son sat across from me at dinner last night and begged me to be around for his children... Talk about moving the very core of my soul...

I also have two teenagers watching and making mental notes so that they will know how to battle when their time comes through life’s hardships and trials. If I had nobody but myself, this war would have stopped long ago because I would have surrendered. I would have laid down my sword, organized all my belongings and called it a day.

Interesting how much we will do for the ones we love but not do for ourselves…