Well, I made it through the last two procedures in one piece. Tuesday, I had my port put in at The James. It was not without hilarious crazy escapades, but overall it was an easy-peasy moment in time. Wednesday's procedure was a whole other experience. We'll get to it, sit tight.
So I check in Tuesday at The James. After a two hour ride at the crack of dawn, the only thing I could think about was the pee floating in my eyeballs. So I ask at the desk where the closest restroom is and the race was now on. Oh no, ma'am, you need to go upstairs and see your nurse for a urine test. What? Great, now I have to explain this whole pregnancy test extravaganza. Ok, so I tell the lady that a pregnancy test is not necessary. But here I am, in the elevator off to see the nurse anyway. So I explain to the nurse that this is going to turn out positive. It is a false-positive due to a Novarel injection taken within 24 hours. Ok, pee in the cup anyway.
So we wait and then get set up in my pre-op bed with my fancy pre-op paper gown and slipper socks of the one-size fits all variety. I notice all the nurses at the station staring at me and obviously trying to figure out what to do. I look at mom and say "Bet they are trying to figure out who has to tell me I'm pregnant." So this kind young women comes over, closed the curtain and sits down next to my bed and starts to stumble over her words. I just stopped her. I said, "It's a false positive, coming from a Novarel injection." So she goes back over and whispers to the folks at the desk. I know she is just following protocol, but it's cracking me up that no one is calling the doctor. So the next call is from my surgeon. Then all nurses come rushing over to get me wheeled out and up to pre-op. Surgeon to the RESCUE!!
In pre-op I received the royal treatment. They were all set for my bad veins. I was wrapped in warm blankets and just hanging out with my surgeon shooting the breeze and catching up on the last six weeks of recovery. She really is the best, so personable. She told me that my chart had a big highlighted note that said POSITIVE PREGNANCY OK. Protocol, protocol, protocol. Translated, just read the damn chart.
But the surgery was quick and easy and I was on the road headed home within the hour. A big fat nap and some yummy lunch courtesy of my mommy. Yet another great experience with my OSU team.
So now it's Wednesday. I do the whole pre-med regime and hop in the car with my mom to head to Reproduction, or what I like to call it, the baby factory. Alex meets us there for moral support and of course to play his role in the process, wink wink. We go sign our life away to the freezer pop people then head over for pre-meds and set up. One Xanax and a Demerol shot later, I was high as a kite. The doc gets ready to move forward with the retrieval. I saw the suction needle, turned and looked Alex straight in the eye and said, "F that guy." Sorry Doc, I just was not feeling it.
All went well, I only almost past out once, so I really see that as a plus. Rock gut for a few days later, but nothing that wasn't expected. I didn't cry or punch a nurse, so really a good day. We have 2 popsicle babies and 9 eggs on ice as an insurance policy in case my baby maker is shot after chemo.
I know I did a lot of bitching and moaning about this crazy week, but I made it and it wasn't that bad. And most importantly its over, and I never have to do it again! BOOM!
Wed, April 3, 2013
by Kara Ward