Sunday, March 1, 2009

I'm so Lame...

...I had half a post written the other night before I realized it was entirely too emo. Like totally way too emo. So that one got scrapped, and I decided it might be best to avoid blogging late at night when I'm tired and scared and have taken lots of cold medications.

I haven't updated you guys on the health front in a couple of days because there's not much to say, really. My next biopsy is this Wednesday, and I have to be awake for it. I met with my interventional radiologist (isn't that the coolest title ever? it sounds like he's the guy you talk to if you get hooked on x-rays) and he explained how this one would work. Apparently, he sticks me with a (relatively, he swears it's not real huge) needle in the chestal region and then puts a smaller needle in that one to take various bits of the alien lung baby away. I have to be awake for this, even though they can only numb the skin (there will be a "pinching" sensation when he punctures the lung linings. pinching. right. i've heard that one before.) because sedatives interfere with your breathing and there's a chance my lung might collapse.

How cool is that? Now, I could just have a smallish bit of a lung collapse (the chances are somewhere around one in four, roughly), in which case they basically just keep an eye on me. I could have a mediumish lung collaps, where I get a nifty drinking straw and mechanical device put in my chest for a couple of days. Or, and this one is pretty cool, I could have a rather largeish dramaticish lung collapse where I get a garden hose put in my chest (i swear, he called it a garden hose. i like this guy) and a week at the hospital. The odds of that are pretty small, but they exist. I'm trying to ignore the possibility of lung collapse entirely, since I am rather younger and healthier than the nice doctor man's average patient. But there's a little part of me that keeps thinking, why would this part be any easier than the rest of it? Thankfully, this should be the last biopsy they need. If they still can't tell me what the alien baby is, we resort to the angry scared Emily who tells the nice doctor to take the alien baby out and decide what it is later because she is tired of being poked and prodded and stuck and examined. She is also having some chest pain, and is finding that walking up the stairs leaves her panting like she's just old or something and she finds that unacceptable.

But some good has come from this ordeal. My darling Momolla has bowed to popular pressure, and is making me a sweater. I'd like to thank you all for supporting my decision to embrace my dad's DNA and use an unpleasant situation to extort presents from my family. I do believe that if it were just me begging for a sweater, I might still be cold and unloved. But thanks to all of you choosing to back my play for knitted love, there might even now be something pretty and blue and warm for me on Momolla's clever needles. And speaking of knitting love, Galad's lovely daughter Nicole sent me some get well soon yarn, which absolutely made my day. She also sent me a lovely letter telling me how many people are pulling for me and telling me not to "let the bastards grind me down." I think Nicole and I would get along great!

Really, if I make it through the next few weeks with my sanity intact, it will be because of my amazing support group. Your concern and your support have been a huge comfort to me. All your warmth and kindness and humor, as always, give me strength and hope. It's a great feeling to know that whatever happens, there are people out there who are rooting for me. I'm knitting on, and maybe by the time this is all over and done with, I'll have something to show for it. And maybe soon, I'll have a reason to update my blog with something other than gloomy medical news. I hope this new week is warm and enjoyable and productive for you all.

8 comments:

Rose Red said...

Ok, all that talk of needles and garden hoses is not so much fun. But I'm so glad that you've got a nice doctor who knows what he's doing. And besides, I reckon they only tell you about the garden hose because then the actual procedure is way less bad. (yep, me, good with the english. oh dear.)

Galad said...

I never believe that "pinch" either but at least you will be prepared.

You are most welcome for whatever help I gave in the sweater plea. My thought is, it will help you feel comforted and give your mother something productive to do while you are all waiting for news. As you pointed out, stress knitting does produce something positive in the end.

I am quite sure you and Nicole would get along very well. You are both awesome young women with attitude :-)

Bells said...

You know what? I had a biopsy of my endometrium last year and the dr told me outright. It's gonna hurt. No pretending. And it did. A lot. I cried out FUCK in the small surgery. The next day she put me in for one under sedation!

Anyway, that's a rather pointless entry into saying yeah, things will probably hurt more than a pinch and none of it sounds fun. You are, as always, in my thoughts.

And I'm SO glad Donna Lee bowed to pressure. I can't wait to see how it turns out, so full of love.

Monique said...

Hang in there Em. I am so proud of how high you are hanging your head. I imagine that most of my posts would be rather emoish if I was in your position. Am thinking of you mate,

Donna Lee said...

It's ok to be emo. Especially when you're scared. Sometimes it makes it feel better just saying (or writing) what you feel. Sharing the burden makes is easier to carry. The sweater is coming along.....

Roxie said...

I'm with Donna Lee. You go be as emo as you want. You're entitled.

So would you like a nice blue wool and mohair shawl to go with that pretty blue sweater? I've got the yarn and it'll take about two weeks. I'd love to send you a big wool hug!

Dianne said...

Emo all you want - we're all here for you with virtual hugs galore!

Roxie said...

When I have to be awake for a procedure, I start telling all the jokes I know. I know some pretty raw jokes. It gives me something else to think about and lets the medics know I am a person, not the next interesting case. I will keep you in my prayers all day today. Tell them dumb jokes, knock-knock jokes, anything. They won't mind. Really.