BMB

Okay.  So.  Whew.  How to find words to describe that experience.  Right now I am sitting on my screened in porch listening to this beautiful thunderstorm--one of my favorite things in the world to do.  But as I sit here I can't help but feel like I just stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I am drained, and fried, and feel like a puddle of mush.  Oh, and I have a pain in my ass. 

So today I went in for the bone marrow biospy.  And apparently in addition, they needed some of my bone too.  Par for the course, I didn't sleep well last night, and was already feeling a little on edge.  Sleep helps me SO much with the coping skills.  But my subconscious knew that I had this doctor's appt. today...so.  ...

Mom and I drove together to the doctor's office.  It was the NP that was doing the procedure, I'd met her before and she's been doing this for several years.  She spent some time with us discussing the procedure.  Now granted, she never said this wasn't going to hurt.  And Heather properly warned me about this, um, what were your words darling?  "That was probably the worst part of the whole treatment!"?  So I am a little nervous.  But am trying to hold it together.  Mom is there, talking tough, and supportive.  This will be done in no time, etc...

So now it is time to get on the table.  I hike my dress up, she hikes my panties down, and makes sure I am all sterile.  From there, I don't even know.  It was horrible.  She didn't get the aspirate on the first try.  I was hyperventilating so bad I thought I was going to pass out...enter cold cloths...Second try, a go! But the aspirate is only the first step. 

Second step, bone.  So she goes in again...and just when she pulls out and we think we are all done, she sees the bone core didn't come out!!  So she had to go in again...apparantly the lidocaine decided to stop working and it hurt like even worse hell. I thought I could muscle through--just get it done-- she tried, but it was just so painful. I was  just screaming. She was nervous, so she just pulled out and gave me more lidocaine (which the shot in itself isn't too pleasanat). So then she goes in again, and it is at  this point I realize the hand of my mother's that I've been gripping like a vice clamp  from the beginning is gone, and she is sitting down behind me and asking for water.  Talk about a tough thing for a mother to watch as her child is screaming on the table. The way she tells her near pass out experience in itself  brings humor and incredible sweetness...and we are all glad she didn't pass out.

Try two for the bone was also unsuccessful.   At this point, mom was recovered, and the nurse went in again.  We grinned and beared that sucker.  The NP was staying cool, the nurse in the background was coaching my breathing.  Too bad with all this to do there wasn't a baby coming out the other end.  (not saying this was anything like having a baby).  Third try a charm!  Thankfully.  We got to see the bone piece, and we, all 4 of us, just took lots of deep breaths and realized we made it through the other end. 

I know so much of what I experienced was my brain getting the better of me. I probably have felt pain just as bad and not have given it as much thought--a hit on the funny bone, a fall off the sea-doo. Maybe. I often wonder if that by going through this whole experience I will come out better in the end if I can learn a way to quiet the mind and relax a little.  That being said, I am NEVER doing that again without some sort of mind numbing substance. 

After the procedue, I told the NP and the nurses about where I work.  "We work in this laboratory, and sometimes local docs send their patients in to get blood draws.  Many of these patients are autistic.  My office is near the blood draw room, and when these kids come in, they are terrified.  They scream and yell, and it ends up being this traumatic experience for all involved."  I felt a kinship with these poor autistic kids.  The fear can consume. 

I also thought of Curtis and Honeybear.  When we take them to the vet the shake uncontrolably.  It is so sad to see the way they show fear.  On that table I was shaking so badly, and I couldn't control it. 

So there we are, one step closer to beating the monster.  Heather, I hope you are right, I hope this is the worst part.  On the way home mom and I chuckled and said, yeah, chemo doesn't seem that bad right now.  A little nausea, a little fatigue....

As angry as I am about things, it is hard to ignore the sweetness.  This thunderstorm is melting the stress away. let it rain...did I say that??  Yeah, it is healing.  Michael just got home.  My mom and I have bonded in a whole new way, and I know she truly is here on this journey with me.  (not that I didn't know that before). 

I got sweet voicemails and emails today from folks.  I am now going to be considered daughter-in-love instead of daughter-in-law, I like that. 

So there you go, that's the story of the bone marrow biopsy today.  Don't ask me to rant about whether or not I really felt it was necessary to begin with...I'll save that for another day.

Oh, and one final side note...the NP did tell us in casual conversation...I don't know how this feels, but I can say that after doing these, if I had to do this, I'd definitely do this in the hospital under sedation.   ...  This was before the procedure.