Early in the afternoon, my doctor came around to see how things were going and give me the results of the CT scan. Unofficially. He said the preliminary results showed no extension of the tumour, there was a clear margin and looks like it has not extended to the vaginal wall. So that was a relief. The one concern was that there was an enlarged lymph node. Even someone with a very limited knowledge of all things cancer knows that lymph node involvement is bad news. But he said that the node was just one, and it wasn't an extension of the tumour, so he was confident it was related to the infection. But they would be keeping a close eye on it.
Then it was time to get rid of all the vaginal packing and my catheter. woohoo! I had just 'assumed the position' when my roommate returned from surgery. i don't know what she was doing behind the curtain, but she was dropping things, and banging things and the curtain kept moving, and i was freaking out thinking she was going to come in, and the curtain wouldn't pull all the way around, so anyone coming to my side of the room would most definitely have gotten an eyeful! So i'm freaking out, my doctor is yelling at the other patient to stop messing with the curtain, the patient is yelling back at him to f*ck off and don't tell her what to do, and then he yells at her at the top of his lungs "I HAVE MY PATIENT LYING NAKED ON THE BED, PLEASE GIVE HER SOME RESPECT!" Umm, geee thanks doc, just announce it to the world. ugh.
Getting the vaginal packing out was gross. I can't even think how to put the feeling into words. And so much. I think he put the entire hospital supply up there! Just when i thought it was done, he'd pull out another piece. gross gross gross. And then i glanced at my nurse who had this look on her face like "what the hell", i thought she was going to pass out or something. So then i was worried that something was wrong - what could she see that i couldn't? But she said there was nothing, just that she hadn't seen so much packing! I can tell you - it felt a lot more comfortable once it was all out.
Then - the reality check - he warned me the bleeding and clots would still continue for a bit because he had disturbed the cervix. And i joked "Well, that's going to get a bit embarrassing at work on monday". He just stared at me with a look of disbelief? pity? He said 'you're not going back to work. you're very sick and you need treatment. you have a long way to go before you can even think about coming back to work'. I guess I hadn't even thought that far ahead. I didn't *want* to think that far ahead. He left me to process all of this information, telling my roommate off again on his way past.
A few minutes later, my nurse reappeared and said i wasn't going to be transferred today after all, and i needed to change rooms (code for we found you a single room). So i grabbed my trusty IV pole and made my way across to the other side of the unit to our swing room. It is usually used by maternity, but surgery use it when they're busy. So I was now in my own room, away from everything. Across the hall from my office, so i had somewhere to go and hide if i needed to. and best of all - not annoying roommate!
I spent the rest of saturday hanging out with my youngest while my oldest was at work. I had noticed i had a bad headache, and finally gave in and asked for some tylenol (panadol). My nurse came back and said the doctor wanted me to have percocet instead. i'm like what? for a headache? just give me tylenol. I'm not taking more drugs after the fun and games of the night before! She then asked me how much coffee i drink - i realized i had had no coffee or coke since thursday morning. I was having caffeine withdrawals. great.
The highlight of my night - when J's friend came to take my daughter home, he brought me in a starbucks. oh my - it tasted like sweet heaven! headache gone :)
Thursday, October 31, 2013
CT's and Meltdowns
Late Friday night, my 'sexy as <ahem>' doctor came to "chat" about the surgery and the plan from here. As he suspected, there was a large tumour on my cervix. Crap, had totally hoped he'd gone in there and discovered his fingers were defective at feeling things and everything was good. But alas, I was still harvesting a lovely sized tumour in my body. Fun stuff.
He would still need the biopsy report, but he was pretty confident that it had NOT extended into the vaginal wall like he had suspected in his office, and he felt that it would be graded as a stage 2b cancer. So this was good news - can i use the word 'good' in this context? The next step would be a CT scan to confirm the tumour wasn't sneaking around my pelvic cavity, and then once all the reports were back, he would get me transferred to the city, most likely on Monday, or Tuesday.
The one thing he stressed - the symptom i had was definitely an infection. The infection was completely unrelated to the cancer. So basically this nasty gross infection has saved my life. The cancer itself - no symptoms at all. Nothing, nadda, zilch. He said if I had waited another month, it could have been a very different story. fuuuuuuuuuck........
So Saturday I woke up knowing i had a plan. I could do this. I still had a metal tasting mouth, i was still NPO waiting more tests, but I was feeling more positive about facing this. This great feeling lasted until about oh, around 8am, when my nurse for the day walked in all perky and happy to do my vitals. I kid you not - the conversation went something like.....
"Good morning! I hear you had a pretty funny night"
"Yep, so they tell me. I apologize if I said anything out of turn to you"
"No, you were fine. So lets get your vitals and then we can get you sorted for the day. You'll have your CT this morning, and hopefully be set to fly out by this afternoon"
WWWHHHHHHAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT???????????????????
And it was about there that I completely lost it. The thought that i was going to be sent THAT DAY before I'd had a chance to sort out my kids, my house, my car, my bills, my LIFE! I couldn't hold it together at all. I think I totally freaked out my poor nurse as i'm sitting there sobbing unable to get any words out. She asked if i needed to speak with someone - did i want to talk to the crisis counselor? ummm...talk about what? i don't even know what the hell is going on or what i'm doing, or how long i'll be gone, i don't need a bloody crisis counselor! My nurse made a fast retreat and i concentrated on getting myself back under control. I sent a text to J to let her know that they were thinking of sending me out that day, and i text the girls to get on a bus and come in NOW. I was so scared they wouldn't get there in time for me to say goodbye (and to do the last minute motherly nagging!)
In the meantime, my idiotic roommate was still bugging the sh*t out of me. She really was something else. She was rude to the staff, argumentative, and kept asking me a thousand questions about going for surgery. She had an infected finger and was going for a washout. Basic simple surgery. and she went on and on and on about how scary it was, and i'm sitting behind my curtain screaming in my head SHUT UP!! I DON'T GIVE A SH*T ABOUT YOUR HAND. I'D RATHER HAVE SURGERY THAN CANCER!!!! But i was polite as always, and tried my best to ignore her.
I finally got called for my CT - yet another experience that i now have a whole new outlook about. They told me i was going to get contrast, and i knew about the effects of this - you apparently get a warm feeling rushing through your body from head to your groin, and the warm feeling makes you feel like you've peed yourself. The CT tech explained this to me as well, so i was fully prepared.
With my arms over my head, i start being moved in and out of the donut of the CT machine. It was freaky. I had to keep my eyes closed the whole time because the flashing lights were freaking me out a little bit. I don't get claustrophobic, but the lights were not fun. So as i'm moving in and out, i'm waiting for the 'warm' feeling, and if anything is was very very mild, i felt warm in my head only, but no where else. So i don't know what the big deal is about there. Finally it was over and the tech came back in. "Ok, now its time to inject the contrast" Huh? I thought thats what just happened. No, apparently that was the preliminary scan. Ohhh...and here i was thinking the contrast wasn't so bad after all. Bugger.
She again warned me of the 'warm' feeling, and said anything i felt let her know - because i've never had anything and have no allergies, they were being cautious in case i had a reaction. So in goes the contrast....and woah!! I got an immediate rush of warmth that settled nicely in my butt. totally weird. then came crushing heart palpitations and severe shortness of breath. and anyone who has every had this, or had a panic attack would know - the more you can't breathe, the more you panic, the worse it gets. I was trying to get my words out asking if this was 'normal' or if i was having a reaction. She assured me it was part of the contrast (thanks for warning me of THAT) and thankfully it passed within a few more minutes.
The rest of the CT went relatively quickly, and it was time to head back to my room. J was waiting outside the scanning room to take me back. She had called the unit after getting my text and they told her i was just getting ready for transport, so she had rushed in. Talk about a miscommunication! No, i was waiting to be transported to CT, not edmonton! So we were still unsure about whether i was going to be heading to the city or not - no one knew where that message had come from. So i went back to my room - minus the roommate who was thankfully in surgery now - and spend more time with my girls, who took great delight in teasing me about the texts i had sent them while i was under the influence :)
He would still need the biopsy report, but he was pretty confident that it had NOT extended into the vaginal wall like he had suspected in his office, and he felt that it would be graded as a stage 2b cancer. So this was good news - can i use the word 'good' in this context? The next step would be a CT scan to confirm the tumour wasn't sneaking around my pelvic cavity, and then once all the reports were back, he would get me transferred to the city, most likely on Monday, or Tuesday.
The one thing he stressed - the symptom i had was definitely an infection. The infection was completely unrelated to the cancer. So basically this nasty gross infection has saved my life. The cancer itself - no symptoms at all. Nothing, nadda, zilch. He said if I had waited another month, it could have been a very different story. fuuuuuuuuuck........
So Saturday I woke up knowing i had a plan. I could do this. I still had a metal tasting mouth, i was still NPO waiting more tests, but I was feeling more positive about facing this. This great feeling lasted until about oh, around 8am, when my nurse for the day walked in all perky and happy to do my vitals. I kid you not - the conversation went something like.....
"Good morning! I hear you had a pretty funny night"
"Yep, so they tell me. I apologize if I said anything out of turn to you"
"No, you were fine. So lets get your vitals and then we can get you sorted for the day. You'll have your CT this morning, and hopefully be set to fly out by this afternoon"
WWWHHHHHHAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT???????????????????
And it was about there that I completely lost it. The thought that i was going to be sent THAT DAY before I'd had a chance to sort out my kids, my house, my car, my bills, my LIFE! I couldn't hold it together at all. I think I totally freaked out my poor nurse as i'm sitting there sobbing unable to get any words out. She asked if i needed to speak with someone - did i want to talk to the crisis counselor? ummm...talk about what? i don't even know what the hell is going on or what i'm doing, or how long i'll be gone, i don't need a bloody crisis counselor! My nurse made a fast retreat and i concentrated on getting myself back under control. I sent a text to J to let her know that they were thinking of sending me out that day, and i text the girls to get on a bus and come in NOW. I was so scared they wouldn't get there in time for me to say goodbye (and to do the last minute motherly nagging!)
In the meantime, my idiotic roommate was still bugging the sh*t out of me. She really was something else. She was rude to the staff, argumentative, and kept asking me a thousand questions about going for surgery. She had an infected finger and was going for a washout. Basic simple surgery. and she went on and on and on about how scary it was, and i'm sitting behind my curtain screaming in my head SHUT UP!! I DON'T GIVE A SH*T ABOUT YOUR HAND. I'D RATHER HAVE SURGERY THAN CANCER!!!! But i was polite as always, and tried my best to ignore her.
I finally got called for my CT - yet another experience that i now have a whole new outlook about. They told me i was going to get contrast, and i knew about the effects of this - you apparently get a warm feeling rushing through your body from head to your groin, and the warm feeling makes you feel like you've peed yourself. The CT tech explained this to me as well, so i was fully prepared.
With my arms over my head, i start being moved in and out of the donut of the CT machine. It was freaky. I had to keep my eyes closed the whole time because the flashing lights were freaking me out a little bit. I don't get claustrophobic, but the lights were not fun. So as i'm moving in and out, i'm waiting for the 'warm' feeling, and if anything is was very very mild, i felt warm in my head only, but no where else. So i don't know what the big deal is about there. Finally it was over and the tech came back in. "Ok, now its time to inject the contrast" Huh? I thought thats what just happened. No, apparently that was the preliminary scan. Ohhh...and here i was thinking the contrast wasn't so bad after all. Bugger.
She again warned me of the 'warm' feeling, and said anything i felt let her know - because i've never had anything and have no allergies, they were being cautious in case i had a reaction. So in goes the contrast....and woah!! I got an immediate rush of warmth that settled nicely in my butt. totally weird. then came crushing heart palpitations and severe shortness of breath. and anyone who has every had this, or had a panic attack would know - the more you can't breathe, the more you panic, the worse it gets. I was trying to get my words out asking if this was 'normal' or if i was having a reaction. She assured me it was part of the contrast (thanks for warning me of THAT) and thankfully it passed within a few more minutes.
The rest of the CT went relatively quickly, and it was time to head back to my room. J was waiting outside the scanning room to take me back. She had called the unit after getting my text and they told her i was just getting ready for transport, so she had rushed in. Talk about a miscommunication! No, i was waiting to be transported to CT, not edmonton! So we were still unsure about whether i was going to be heading to the city or not - no one knew where that message had come from. So i went back to my room - minus the roommate who was thankfully in surgery now - and spend more time with my girls, who took great delight in teasing me about the texts i had sent them while i was under the influence :)
Drugs and my lack of filter
I get to the OR waiting bay, and am put in a bed to wait. I could hear the nurse giving report to the OR nurse, and just listening to them talking about me hit me hard. I couldn't help it, but the tears just started flowing, and the shaking began again. How the hell did I end up here? Yesterday I was busy working on policies and annoying the staff with audits and checks, and now I'm lying here waiting to see if I am going to survive this. The feelings are overwhelming when I hear the nurse say I had had symptoms for 6 months. Seriously, who the hell ignores something like this for 6 months?
I'm trying to get it together before the OR nurse comes back in when the curtain opens and in walks K, the OR manager. She doesn't say a word, she just grabs a box of tissues and sits next to me waiting for me to get back under control. It's now 4.30pm on a Friday, I don't understand why she is still here. No managers are still in the building at this hour on a Friday (unless the VP is mean enough to schedule a meeting at 3pm on a friday, but that's a whole other issue!) She tells me she is staying until I go in. I argue with her - she must have better things to do on a friday evening. But she says no, she wants to be here and I'm not facing this alone. Cue fresh tears. Next my boss pops her head in. She's not going anywhere either. She says she'll see me on the other side.
Now I haven't been to the OR before, so K takes me on a scenic tour explaining all the rooms along the way as we're heading to *my* OR. Was a weird way to distract me, but helped delay things a little bit. We got to the OR, and I shuffled across to the table and got into position. I get all hooked up, and before I know it they're injecting me with the good stuff. I remember looking up into K's eyes and saying "woah, this is trippy" as I felt everything swirling around me, and I was gone.
Next thing I know, I hear K's voice telling me it's ok, open my eyes. I can hear the machines beeping and everyone busy around me. Then I heard my doctor saying something and I turned to him and said "you're as sexy as f*ck" WTF ???? where did THAT come from? I could hear myself saying "why did i just say that?" It was weird - i could hear myself saying things but i couldn't stop it. My brain was saying SHUT UP YOU MORON but my mouth was going yak yak yakkity yak. K laughed and said I had just said something much worse. I did? What? Oh no, I'm not going to repeat it, she said.
Finally, I got my eyes open, and both K and my boss are there, enjoying the entertainment I was providing. They stayed with me until I was ready to go back to the surgery unit, where I had J, the surgery manager waiting for me. I walked myself to my bed telling my nurse to go get my phone and ipad out of my office (i had locked it up away from my horrible roommate while i was gone)
Now I just want to put it out there - there should be a policy or a law or something that BANS hospitals from returning any electronic device to someone who has had a general anesthetic. If you're not allowed to drive after a GA, you shouldn't be allowed to communicate with anyone either!
So the highlights of the night - I apparently kept everyone very amused. I text everyone and anyone telling them how high I was and how funny I was. I asked someone, no wait, I TOLD someone to marry me, I text my kids that I was totally stoned, I messaged my brother some crap about how being high was totally awesome. It went on and on. I'm sure at least one person enjoyed my total lack of filter as I went on to say anything I felt like. J tried to get me to put my phone away, but I was away in la-la land and she gave up. She did intervene when I tried to take a photo of my catheter bag. They had put some die in my bladder I think? So my pee was blue. Smurf pee! And I was apparently so fascinated with it, I was trying to take a photo to put on facebook. J wisely suggested I not go that far. As I was talking to J, I had a sudden flashback and I gasped. I said "J, I think I might had said something really rude to V (our boss)" It would appear that after calling my gynecologist sexy, I went on to tell my boss that I had grand plans for the redevelopment of the unit, and she wasn't going to like them, but I was going to do them anyway, and she better not f*ck with MY unit while I was gone. OMG!!!! (i'm caught between being totally mortified and thinking hey - it's her own fault for being there!)
J eventually left, and I got bored. So I started roaming the halls and went across to the maternity unit to say hi to the girls there. Not sure what I said to them, but apparently I was high as a kite and pretty funny. Even my night nurse enjoyed the entertainment, when she came to give my antibiotics the next morning she said "you're still pretty funny, but you were much funnier last night". So I guess I kept everyone very well entertained. I will point out, that my lack of filter was harmless. I wasn't nasty or mean to anyone (that I have proof of!), but I definitely wasn't my usual controlled reserved self.
Oh, when i got back from surgery - i was finally allowed to eat! woohoo! i didn't actually have any appetite, but i was pretty thirsty. My poor appetite wasn't helped much when I took a bite of my sandwich -
chicken salad? tasted like pasty cat food. One bite was enough to gross me out, so i put it back. When my nurse was taking the tray away later on, my roommate asked if she could have the food. What the hell? Some people are really weird!
So I survived the biopsy, I might not survive the constant reminders of 'remember that night you were high on drugs?' and after that pathetic attempt of a meal, i was back to being NPO for the CT scan.
I'm trying to get it together before the OR nurse comes back in when the curtain opens and in walks K, the OR manager. She doesn't say a word, she just grabs a box of tissues and sits next to me waiting for me to get back under control. It's now 4.30pm on a Friday, I don't understand why she is still here. No managers are still in the building at this hour on a Friday (unless the VP is mean enough to schedule a meeting at 3pm on a friday, but that's a whole other issue!) She tells me she is staying until I go in. I argue with her - she must have better things to do on a friday evening. But she says no, she wants to be here and I'm not facing this alone. Cue fresh tears. Next my boss pops her head in. She's not going anywhere either. She says she'll see me on the other side.
Now I haven't been to the OR before, so K takes me on a scenic tour explaining all the rooms along the way as we're heading to *my* OR. Was a weird way to distract me, but helped delay things a little bit. We got to the OR, and I shuffled across to the table and got into position. I get all hooked up, and before I know it they're injecting me with the good stuff. I remember looking up into K's eyes and saying "woah, this is trippy" as I felt everything swirling around me, and I was gone.
Next thing I know, I hear K's voice telling me it's ok, open my eyes. I can hear the machines beeping and everyone busy around me. Then I heard my doctor saying something and I turned to him and said "you're as sexy as f*ck" WTF ???? where did THAT come from? I could hear myself saying "why did i just say that?" It was weird - i could hear myself saying things but i couldn't stop it. My brain was saying SHUT UP YOU MORON but my mouth was going yak yak yakkity yak. K laughed and said I had just said something much worse. I did? What? Oh no, I'm not going to repeat it, she said.
Finally, I got my eyes open, and both K and my boss are there, enjoying the entertainment I was providing. They stayed with me until I was ready to go back to the surgery unit, where I had J, the surgery manager waiting for me. I walked myself to my bed telling my nurse to go get my phone and ipad out of my office (i had locked it up away from my horrible roommate while i was gone)
Now I just want to put it out there - there should be a policy or a law or something that BANS hospitals from returning any electronic device to someone who has had a general anesthetic. If you're not allowed to drive after a GA, you shouldn't be allowed to communicate with anyone either!
So the highlights of the night - I apparently kept everyone very amused. I text everyone and anyone telling them how high I was and how funny I was. I asked someone, no wait, I TOLD someone to marry me, I text my kids that I was totally stoned, I messaged my brother some crap about how being high was totally awesome. It went on and on. I'm sure at least one person enjoyed my total lack of filter as I went on to say anything I felt like. J tried to get me to put my phone away, but I was away in la-la land and she gave up. She did intervene when I tried to take a photo of my catheter bag. They had put some die in my bladder I think? So my pee was blue. Smurf pee! And I was apparently so fascinated with it, I was trying to take a photo to put on facebook. J wisely suggested I not go that far. As I was talking to J, I had a sudden flashback and I gasped. I said "J, I think I might had said something really rude to V (our boss)" It would appear that after calling my gynecologist sexy, I went on to tell my boss that I had grand plans for the redevelopment of the unit, and she wasn't going to like them, but I was going to do them anyway, and she better not f*ck with MY unit while I was gone. OMG!!!! (i'm caught between being totally mortified and thinking hey - it's her own fault for being there!)
J eventually left, and I got bored. So I started roaming the halls and went across to the maternity unit to say hi to the girls there. Not sure what I said to them, but apparently I was high as a kite and pretty funny. Even my night nurse enjoyed the entertainment, when she came to give my antibiotics the next morning she said "you're still pretty funny, but you were much funnier last night". So I guess I kept everyone very well entertained. I will point out, that my lack of filter was harmless. I wasn't nasty or mean to anyone (that I have proof of!), but I definitely wasn't my usual controlled reserved self.
Oh, when i got back from surgery - i was finally allowed to eat! woohoo! i didn't actually have any appetite, but i was pretty thirsty. My poor appetite wasn't helped much when I took a bite of my sandwich -
So I survived the biopsy, I might not survive the constant reminders of 'remember that night you were high on drugs?' and after that pathetic attempt of a meal, i was back to being NPO for the CT scan.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.....
I didn't sleep much through the night. The nurse felt it necessary to check on me every hour, on the hour. Plus IV antibiotics, listening to my pump clicking away giving me my fluids, it was a long night. I had several offers of ativan to help me relax, and a sleeping tablet to help me sleep, but i kept saying no - i needed to keep a clear head. And seriously? Relax? My life has just been turned upside down and you want me to relax???
The antibiotics had started to give me a revolting metallic taste in my mouth, but the nurse was mean and wouldn't let me suck on something or swish something tasty around my mouth, as I was NPO for the CT and surgery. There are only so many times a girl can brush her teeth! The taste is truly revolting, and anyone visiting me had to put up with me constantly sticking my tongue out and making gagging sounds. :)
One of my friends, popped up to see me at the start of the day. She is also the manager of the surgery unit, and said she would do all she could to keep the other bed free so I could have some privacy. She also told me off for not calling her straight away last night to tell her what was going on. Nothing life a major life crisis to make you realize who's there for you! Alas, within half an hour, the bed was filled. This patient was worse than the one the night before. She was not the most savoury of people - loud, swearing, rude. She went on and on about her poor sore finger, and I'm lying there thinking oh dear, poor you. Our relationship went further downhill when her boyfriend returned at 10am with PIZZA for her!!! OMG - you don't know true torture until you're NPO with a metallic taste in your mouth and having to smell hot cheese!!!
The day dragged on and on, all this waiting and no one has any clue on times. Around lunch time, the OR manager came up to see me. She confirmed I was slated as the last case of the day, and the CT was going to be done tomorrow. So I've basically been sitting here starving for nothing. Lovely.
The girls were both on days off and came to spend the day with me, which I loved. They are both taking things in their stride, trying to hold it together. Several people have offered to help keep an eye on them, helping with rides when needed etc. The support everyone is showing just blows me away. I don't think I can thank people enough for what they're doing. Although apparently I'm thanking people TOO much because I got told to stop being so grateful and just accept that people are here to help!
Oh, I need to add something gross. So because of all the manipulation of my cervix, it had caused me to start bleeding. A lot. Then came nasty giant mother***** clots. We're talking plums and mandarins here. Totally gross. It's really fun when you have to dash to the bathroom every half an hour with an IV pole, trying to maneuver around your own bed, and your idiot roommates stuff, while holding your gown together so you don't flash your butt to everyone. I was reassured this was totally normal (really? passing clots the size of a newborn is normal?) and should settle down.
Finally, the moment we had been waiting for - time to go to the OR. I hugged the girls goodbye, grabbed my IV pole, and headed on down to the OR.
The antibiotics had started to give me a revolting metallic taste in my mouth, but the nurse was mean and wouldn't let me suck on something or swish something tasty around my mouth, as I was NPO for the CT and surgery. There are only so many times a girl can brush her teeth! The taste is truly revolting, and anyone visiting me had to put up with me constantly sticking my tongue out and making gagging sounds. :)
One of my friends, popped up to see me at the start of the day. She is also the manager of the surgery unit, and said she would do all she could to keep the other bed free so I could have some privacy. She also told me off for not calling her straight away last night to tell her what was going on. Nothing life a major life crisis to make you realize who's there for you! Alas, within half an hour, the bed was filled. This patient was worse than the one the night before. She was not the most savoury of people - loud, swearing, rude. She went on and on about her poor sore finger, and I'm lying there thinking oh dear, poor you. Our relationship went further downhill when her boyfriend returned at 10am with PIZZA for her!!! OMG - you don't know true torture until you're NPO with a metallic taste in your mouth and having to smell hot cheese!!!
The day dragged on and on, all this waiting and no one has any clue on times. Around lunch time, the OR manager came up to see me. She confirmed I was slated as the last case of the day, and the CT was going to be done tomorrow. So I've basically been sitting here starving for nothing. Lovely.
The girls were both on days off and came to spend the day with me, which I loved. They are both taking things in their stride, trying to hold it together. Several people have offered to help keep an eye on them, helping with rides when needed etc. The support everyone is showing just blows me away. I don't think I can thank people enough for what they're doing. Although apparently I'm thanking people TOO much because I got told to stop being so grateful and just accept that people are here to help!
Oh, I need to add something gross. So because of all the manipulation of my cervix, it had caused me to start bleeding. A lot. Then came nasty giant mother***** clots. We're talking plums and mandarins here. Totally gross. It's really fun when you have to dash to the bathroom every half an hour with an IV pole, trying to maneuver around your own bed, and your idiot roommates stuff, while holding your gown together so you don't flash your butt to everyone. I was reassured this was totally normal (really? passing clots the size of a newborn is normal?) and should settle down.
Finally, the moment we had been waiting for - time to go to the OR. I hugged the girls goodbye, grabbed my IV pole, and headed on down to the OR.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
My first night as a patient
Thursday night I walked into patient registration and got myself admitted. They had been waiting for me, so it only took a few minutes to confirm all my details. Then I walked up to the surgery unit on the second floor. I was shown to my room, and despite being promised a single room, I had a roommate. Thankfully the curtain was pulled, so I didn't have to talk to her. I really wasn't in a talking mood!
Then began the questions again. It was nerve-wracking being on the other side of the bed. I was used to asking all these questions - I had never considered what it was like for a patient to have to answer them! What I used to considered a 'routine' question, I now found to be embarrassing and personal. Having to tell a stranger about my symptoms, my history and what was going on, was difficult. The worst feeling was that I felt ashamed. I'm a nurse for gods sake. I tell other women to stay healthy, get regular tests etc. If any one of my friends had ever mentioned to me that they had something going on, I would never hesitate to tell them to get themselves to a doctor asap. And here I am, sitting on a hospital bed admitting that I had kept this "hidden" for six months.
Once the questions were out of the way, it was time to begin the steady stream of tests. First up, my vital signs. My blood pressure and pulse were through the roof, and no matter how much I told myself to calm down, nothing seemed to be able to relax me. It probably wasn't helped by the constant chatter from my roommate, who told me her entire medical and surgical history within 15 minutes of me being there. My nurse finally gave up with my blood pressure and said she would try again in a bit when I'd settled. Next was the blood tests. I think i've been tested for anything and everything. I'm surprised i have any left after the amount of tubes they took! I was also typed and screened in case they needed to give me a transfusion during surgery. Another wrist band to add to my patient one.
After being poked by the needle, it was EKG time. Now shit was starting to get real. I was asked to change into a patient gown. I still wasn't ready to accept I was a patient and wanted to keep my clothes on. She compromised by letting me keep my jeans on, but the rest had to go. Now, I have done plenty of EKG's over my career. I have never once been uncomfortable hooking a woman up to one. I have lifted boobs out of the way without a second thought. But to BE that boob being pushed around.....I decided the best way to deal with this was to keep my eyes closed and try to detach myself from it all. I don't think it worked well - my pulse was at 130 bpm by this stage, and the more she told me to relax, the more panicked i felt. Finally it was done, and I was left alone again.
No sooner had the EKG tech left the room, the old lady started chatting away again. i'm sitting behind my curtain crying and trying not to make a sound, listening to her crap on and on about her stupid gallbladder, but too polite to say anything. My nurse finally reappeared to take me to get xrays. Time for the jeans to go. Now I had been turned into a real patient. <sigh>
The xray was the easiest and quickest thing done, and it was back to the unit. I asked my nurse if there was any chance of having a room to myself, that I needed to be alone, not listen to an old lady chatter non-stop. I was assured they were trying to work something out for me. Once I got back to the floor, my doctor had arrived and went over what he had planned again. He wanted me to have a CT done before surgery, either that night or first thing in the morning. Then I would be taken to surgery for an examination under anesthetic and a biopsy, and then he would send the results to Edmonton and transfer my care. He was 100% certain I had a cancer, it was just a matter of how advanced and whether there was any other organ involvement.
I should mention, the one thing I love about this doctor - he knows his stuff and he will tell you exactly how it is. He won't sugar coat anything or hold back. This is one of the reasons I chose to go to him. So while part of me wished he could've put a more positive spin on it, or pretended it wasn't that bad, I really appreciated his honesty on what he felt was going on.
Now, just when i thought things had settled, he told the nurse to do an in/out catheter. I was like WHAT??? For anyone who doesn't know - this involves placing a catheter into the bladder to drain out the urine so they have a clean specimen, and then they remove it. It is never fun getting a catheter, and I certainly didn't want one at all! I begged him to reconsider - i can do a clean catch. But there was no talking him out of it. He politely told me to suck it up, turn off the 'nurse' in me, and be the patient and accept he knows what is best for me. Yes Sir!
So off the nurse goes to collect what she needed to do the catheter. As soon as she left the room, my roommate pipes up again. "Are you going to be getting tests done all night? Because I'm a real light sleeper." OMFG!!!!! I'm so sorry I had the bloody nerve to get cancer on THIS night and disrupt YOUR sleep! I just ignored her - figured that would be better than yelling at her. As my mother always said, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.
So back comes the nurse with her goodies. Oh joy. Was honestly hoping she had forgotten. No such luck. So up onto the bed I go and I assumed the position. (the position is quite humiliating...just saying) As she's setting up, she tells me that there are some discharges happening, and they'll be moving me to another room soon. Finally! Some good news! Then it's time to start getting my catheter....
A nurses biggest fear is getting assigned to a patient who is also a nurse. You think that they will be critiquing your skills, or judging you. It's pretty nerve-wracking to say the least. I could tell my nurse was nervous - the shaking hands and fumbling gave it away. So I was chatting away - both from my own nerves of GETTING the catheter, and to try and put her at ease. But I don't think it was working very well. After a few nervous attempts of aiming in the completely wrong part of my anatomy, she finally hit the liquid gold and got the sample the doctor wanted. Humiliation over.
I got cleaned up, and put my stuff together, and a few minutes later got transferred to my very own room. Yippee! My excitement was short lived. Now I needed an IV to be placed and to commence on antibiotics. Crap. I really hate needles. And worse - they sent the newbie who was trying to get her IV starts signed off. I actually felt sorry for her - it was pretty mean to send her to put the IV into the nurse manager. She had the shakes bad. But she finally got it in and hooked me up to my new best friend.
Then began the questions again. It was nerve-wracking being on the other side of the bed. I was used to asking all these questions - I had never considered what it was like for a patient to have to answer them! What I used to considered a 'routine' question, I now found to be embarrassing and personal. Having to tell a stranger about my symptoms, my history and what was going on, was difficult. The worst feeling was that I felt ashamed. I'm a nurse for gods sake. I tell other women to stay healthy, get regular tests etc. If any one of my friends had ever mentioned to me that they had something going on, I would never hesitate to tell them to get themselves to a doctor asap. And here I am, sitting on a hospital bed admitting that I had kept this "hidden" for six months.
Once the questions were out of the way, it was time to begin the steady stream of tests. First up, my vital signs. My blood pressure and pulse were through the roof, and no matter how much I told myself to calm down, nothing seemed to be able to relax me. It probably wasn't helped by the constant chatter from my roommate, who told me her entire medical and surgical history within 15 minutes of me being there. My nurse finally gave up with my blood pressure and said she would try again in a bit when I'd settled. Next was the blood tests. I think i've been tested for anything and everything. I'm surprised i have any left after the amount of tubes they took! I was also typed and screened in case they needed to give me a transfusion during surgery. Another wrist band to add to my patient one.
After being poked by the needle, it was EKG time. Now shit was starting to get real. I was asked to change into a patient gown. I still wasn't ready to accept I was a patient and wanted to keep my clothes on. She compromised by letting me keep my jeans on, but the rest had to go. Now, I have done plenty of EKG's over my career. I have never once been uncomfortable hooking a woman up to one. I have lifted boobs out of the way without a second thought. But to BE that boob being pushed around.....I decided the best way to deal with this was to keep my eyes closed and try to detach myself from it all. I don't think it worked well - my pulse was at 130 bpm by this stage, and the more she told me to relax, the more panicked i felt. Finally it was done, and I was left alone again.
No sooner had the EKG tech left the room, the old lady started chatting away again. i'm sitting behind my curtain crying and trying not to make a sound, listening to her crap on and on about her stupid gallbladder, but too polite to say anything. My nurse finally reappeared to take me to get xrays. Time for the jeans to go. Now I had been turned into a real patient. <sigh>
The xray was the easiest and quickest thing done, and it was back to the unit. I asked my nurse if there was any chance of having a room to myself, that I needed to be alone, not listen to an old lady chatter non-stop. I was assured they were trying to work something out for me. Once I got back to the floor, my doctor had arrived and went over what he had planned again. He wanted me to have a CT done before surgery, either that night or first thing in the morning. Then I would be taken to surgery for an examination under anesthetic and a biopsy, and then he would send the results to Edmonton and transfer my care. He was 100% certain I had a cancer, it was just a matter of how advanced and whether there was any other organ involvement.
I should mention, the one thing I love about this doctor - he knows his stuff and he will tell you exactly how it is. He won't sugar coat anything or hold back. This is one of the reasons I chose to go to him. So while part of me wished he could've put a more positive spin on it, or pretended it wasn't that bad, I really appreciated his honesty on what he felt was going on.
Now, just when i thought things had settled, he told the nurse to do an in/out catheter. I was like WHAT??? For anyone who doesn't know - this involves placing a catheter into the bladder to drain out the urine so they have a clean specimen, and then they remove it. It is never fun getting a catheter, and I certainly didn't want one at all! I begged him to reconsider - i can do a clean catch. But there was no talking him out of it. He politely told me to suck it up, turn off the 'nurse' in me, and be the patient and accept he knows what is best for me. Yes Sir!
So off the nurse goes to collect what she needed to do the catheter. As soon as she left the room, my roommate pipes up again. "Are you going to be getting tests done all night? Because I'm a real light sleeper." OMFG!!!!! I'm so sorry I had the bloody nerve to get cancer on THIS night and disrupt YOUR sleep! I just ignored her - figured that would be better than yelling at her. As my mother always said, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.
So back comes the nurse with her goodies. Oh joy. Was honestly hoping she had forgotten. No such luck. So up onto the bed I go and I assumed the position. (the position is quite humiliating...just saying) As she's setting up, she tells me that there are some discharges happening, and they'll be moving me to another room soon. Finally! Some good news! Then it's time to start getting my catheter....
A nurses biggest fear is getting assigned to a patient who is also a nurse. You think that they will be critiquing your skills, or judging you. It's pretty nerve-wracking to say the least. I could tell my nurse was nervous - the shaking hands and fumbling gave it away. So I was chatting away - both from my own nerves of GETTING the catheter, and to try and put her at ease. But I don't think it was working very well. After a few nervous attempts of aiming in the completely wrong part of my anatomy, she finally hit the liquid gold and got the sample the doctor wanted. Humiliation over.
I got cleaned up, and put my stuff together, and a few minutes later got transferred to my very own room. Yippee! My excitement was short lived. Now I needed an IV to be placed and to commence on antibiotics. Crap. I really hate needles. And worse - they sent the newbie who was trying to get her IV starts signed off. I actually felt sorry for her - it was pretty mean to send her to put the IV into the nurse manager. She had the shakes bad. But she finally got it in and hooked me up to my new best friend.
 |
| Ouchie. Even a baby 22G hurt like a bugger! |
 | |
| My new best friend - he follows me everywhere! |
Just another day at work
So I work with obstetricians - if i have a problem with my girly bits, i basically have to pick one of my work colleagues to have a look at it. Or my creepy family doctor who has a curtain for a door and no bathroom...but that's a whole other story.
This is pretty much my only excuse why i waited so long to get things checked out. No, I lie. I have plenty of other excuses too, but this was one of the bigger ones. Plus, when it comes to the nether regions, no one is a fan of stripping off in front of a doctor and saying - hey, check this out! So basically, i was embarrassed.
Out of the 3 ob/gyns we have in town, there is only one that i feel comfortable talking to, and i knew he would be the one i needed to go see. fast forward another few months, and i finally got the courage to tell him what was going on. he didn't hesitate - he said he will come in early in the morning and check it out and take it from there. thankfully, thursday was an insanely busy day, and he never got the chance. phew....saved from embarrassment!
I was just packing up for the day when he popped into my office and asked if i was ready. oh sure, i was ready....ready with excuses why i had changed my mind and didn't need to get checked after all! He wouldn't take no for an answer and told me to head straight to his office NOW and he'd see me straight away.
So i did. I checked in with all the pregnant ladies waiting for him to come. The receptionist asked if i was there for pregnancy or fertility treatment? I didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted! Am i still young enough to pass as being pregnant, or am i now old enough that i obviously need fertility treatment?
First up was a visit with the nurse. The usual 101 questions. Are you on any medications? No. Do you have any allergies? No. Do you smoke? No. Do you drink? No. Do you do illegal street drugs? Oh yeah, I do crack like there's no tomorrow! What???? I'm kidding! Geez!!! I said to her - seriously? I think we've established my life is pretty boring and ordinary. Of course I don't do drugs.
Next it was off to sit in a tiny little office. I'm not sure if the office was cold, or my nerves. But I was shaking a lot. Have I mentioned i really don't like going to see a doctor. they honestly creep me out! So it's now round 2 of all the questions. Easy questions, i can handle those. Then it gets to the nitty gritty stuff. When was my last pap smear? Hanging my head in shame, i admit it's been over 6 years. Thankfully he doesn't judge me, but moves on to the next question. Then I have to explain in detail my symptoms.
Now, i'm in two minds whether to share this bit. Honestly, its gross. It's a gross symptom, and it's more gross that i put up with it for so long. But a lot of people have asked me about symptoms, and a lot of people are freaking out about how I discovered i had cancer. So for the sake of any other woman out there who is worried she might have cancer, or worried whether she should go see a doctor, i am going to tell you what i found. If you know you'll get grossed out, or don't really want to know my gross little secret, then skip ahead to the next paragraph. Because hey, ignorance is bliss, right?
So for the past six months, i've been having some discharge. It wasn't too bad at first, enough that i needed to be putting in a panty liner. then it was 2 panty liners a day, then 3. Then i needed a pad, then 2. Then it started to get pretty smelly. Like fishy smelly. It was about now that i knew something wasn't right and this wasn't going to go away. So i did what any sane person does - i googled it. I then self-diagnosed myself. Because I'm brilliant like that. It was either a simple bacterial infection OR it was stage 4 cervical cancer. Because i knew i had skipped a pap smear or two, or 3... i figured it was cancer, i had a few months to live, and again, ignorance is bliss. If i didn't know, i could keep ignoring it. So, that was my ONLY symptom - smelly watery discharge. fun.
Ok, all the weak stomached people can open their eyes again!
Next step after playing 20 questions, time for the dreaded exam. I stripped off and jumped up on the table. Ok, I lie. I carefully placed myself on the little table with the scratchy paper and sat there shaking, waiting for him to come back. I felt that my feet had gone like ice and looked down to my toes. My feet had gone a very white, almost pale blue colour. I wish i had taken a picture, but there isn't really anywhere to stick your phone when you're lying there half naked. It's funny the things that stick out in your mind....
So Doc comes back in and begins. As soon as he takes a look, he says yep, bacterial vaginosis. The sigh of relief probably caused a hurricane somewhere. thank god. its just an infection. woohoo! he quickly finished off my pap, then said he just wanted to check the cervix. so out comes the speculum, in goes the fingers. then his whole demeanor changed. "Ok, get dressed, we need to have a talk" No no no, go back to the 'oh, its just an infection! here's your antibiotics!'
So now i'm dressed and he says what no woman ever ever wants to hear. I feel a cancer on your cervix. and it was about then when my whole world just fell apart. He said he could feel it on the right side of the cervix, extending to the vaginal wall. Because it was extending, it was either a stage 2b or stage 3 cancer. i didn't even know what that meant. i just couldn't hear past the word CANCER. I hate this word. I asked him straight "do i need to go home? do i need to go back to new zealand and be with my family?" He reassured me that no, i was in the best possible place and this was treatable. This type of cancer has an 'excellent' prognosis, with a survival rate of 65%. Which is funny, because 65% doesn't really sound that great to me.
He then dove into action - he called my boss, he called the hospital, he arranged for me to be admitted right now so i can start on antibiotics, get a biopsy done, have a CT scan..... I said sure, i just need to go home and pack a bag, meet you at the hospital in an hour.
I got in the car and just cried. Why me? why now? why? why? why? Then i got a text message from the girls - am i going to be much longer and where's dinner, they're hungry. are you frigging kidding me? food????? so i started the car and headed home, holding it all together.
i walked in the door and just totally lost it. not just boo hoo have a cry, but more like howling my eyes out which then turned into a full on panic attack. i couldn't breathe, i couldn't talk, the kids were totally freaked, and i just could NOT get it together enough to tell them what was going on. I finally calmed down enough to explain what had happened and that i had to go back to the hospital. i called my mother and told her the news. she graciously offered to jump straight on a plane and come to me. but i said no, what was the point? i didn't know what was going to happen yet. i think that was my denial, i still expected it to all be a big mistake.
i then had to pack my bag and head back to the hospital. my mothers last words to me - please take your angel with you. now - i should mention, our belongings have been in storage for 6 months and had only just been delivered. so the place is a mess and there are boxes everywhere. i hang my angel that mum made me on the christmas tree every year so i thought it would be with the christmas decorations. not there. went through all my personal boxes, not there. i found caitlins angel, emilys angel, but i don't know where my angel is. this threw me in more of a panic. finally caitlin and emily said hey - take our angels, that way our angels can watch over you in hospital, and your angel is hiding in the house watching over us.
So angel crisis averted, it was a very long hug to the girls - i did not want to let go. and then it was a quick drive back to the hospital to turn myself in. i mean, get admitted. almost the same thing really....
This is pretty much my only excuse why i waited so long to get things checked out. No, I lie. I have plenty of other excuses too, but this was one of the bigger ones. Plus, when it comes to the nether regions, no one is a fan of stripping off in front of a doctor and saying - hey, check this out! So basically, i was embarrassed.
Out of the 3 ob/gyns we have in town, there is only one that i feel comfortable talking to, and i knew he would be the one i needed to go see. fast forward another few months, and i finally got the courage to tell him what was going on. he didn't hesitate - he said he will come in early in the morning and check it out and take it from there. thankfully, thursday was an insanely busy day, and he never got the chance. phew....saved from embarrassment!
I was just packing up for the day when he popped into my office and asked if i was ready. oh sure, i was ready....ready with excuses why i had changed my mind and didn't need to get checked after all! He wouldn't take no for an answer and told me to head straight to his office NOW and he'd see me straight away.
So i did. I checked in with all the pregnant ladies waiting for him to come. The receptionist asked if i was there for pregnancy or fertility treatment? I didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted! Am i still young enough to pass as being pregnant, or am i now old enough that i obviously need fertility treatment?
First up was a visit with the nurse. The usual 101 questions. Are you on any medications? No. Do you have any allergies? No. Do you smoke? No. Do you drink? No. Do you do illegal street drugs? Oh yeah, I do crack like there's no tomorrow! What???? I'm kidding! Geez!!! I said to her - seriously? I think we've established my life is pretty boring and ordinary. Of course I don't do drugs.
Next it was off to sit in a tiny little office. I'm not sure if the office was cold, or my nerves. But I was shaking a lot. Have I mentioned i really don't like going to see a doctor. they honestly creep me out! So it's now round 2 of all the questions. Easy questions, i can handle those. Then it gets to the nitty gritty stuff. When was my last pap smear? Hanging my head in shame, i admit it's been over 6 years. Thankfully he doesn't judge me, but moves on to the next question. Then I have to explain in detail my symptoms.
Now, i'm in two minds whether to share this bit. Honestly, its gross. It's a gross symptom, and it's more gross that i put up with it for so long. But a lot of people have asked me about symptoms, and a lot of people are freaking out about how I discovered i had cancer. So for the sake of any other woman out there who is worried she might have cancer, or worried whether she should go see a doctor, i am going to tell you what i found. If you know you'll get grossed out, or don't really want to know my gross little secret, then skip ahead to the next paragraph. Because hey, ignorance is bliss, right?
So for the past six months, i've been having some discharge. It wasn't too bad at first, enough that i needed to be putting in a panty liner. then it was 2 panty liners a day, then 3. Then i needed a pad, then 2. Then it started to get pretty smelly. Like fishy smelly. It was about now that i knew something wasn't right and this wasn't going to go away. So i did what any sane person does - i googled it. I then self-diagnosed myself. Because I'm brilliant like that. It was either a simple bacterial infection OR it was stage 4 cervical cancer. Because i knew i had skipped a pap smear or two, or 3... i figured it was cancer, i had a few months to live, and again, ignorance is bliss. If i didn't know, i could keep ignoring it. So, that was my ONLY symptom - smelly watery discharge. fun.
Ok, all the weak stomached people can open their eyes again!
Next step after playing 20 questions, time for the dreaded exam. I stripped off and jumped up on the table. Ok, I lie. I carefully placed myself on the little table with the scratchy paper and sat there shaking, waiting for him to come back. I felt that my feet had gone like ice and looked down to my toes. My feet had gone a very white, almost pale blue colour. I wish i had taken a picture, but there isn't really anywhere to stick your phone when you're lying there half naked. It's funny the things that stick out in your mind....
So Doc comes back in and begins. As soon as he takes a look, he says yep, bacterial vaginosis. The sigh of relief probably caused a hurricane somewhere. thank god. its just an infection. woohoo! he quickly finished off my pap, then said he just wanted to check the cervix. so out comes the speculum, in goes the fingers. then his whole demeanor changed. "Ok, get dressed, we need to have a talk" No no no, go back to the 'oh, its just an infection! here's your antibiotics!'
So now i'm dressed and he says what no woman ever ever wants to hear. I feel a cancer on your cervix. and it was about then when my whole world just fell apart. He said he could feel it on the right side of the cervix, extending to the vaginal wall. Because it was extending, it was either a stage 2b or stage 3 cancer. i didn't even know what that meant. i just couldn't hear past the word CANCER. I hate this word. I asked him straight "do i need to go home? do i need to go back to new zealand and be with my family?" He reassured me that no, i was in the best possible place and this was treatable. This type of cancer has an 'excellent' prognosis, with a survival rate of 65%. Which is funny, because 65% doesn't really sound that great to me.
He then dove into action - he called my boss, he called the hospital, he arranged for me to be admitted right now so i can start on antibiotics, get a biopsy done, have a CT scan..... I said sure, i just need to go home and pack a bag, meet you at the hospital in an hour.
I got in the car and just cried. Why me? why now? why? why? why? Then i got a text message from the girls - am i going to be much longer and where's dinner, they're hungry. are you frigging kidding me? food????? so i started the car and headed home, holding it all together.
i walked in the door and just totally lost it. not just boo hoo have a cry, but more like howling my eyes out which then turned into a full on panic attack. i couldn't breathe, i couldn't talk, the kids were totally freaked, and i just could NOT get it together enough to tell them what was going on. I finally calmed down enough to explain what had happened and that i had to go back to the hospital. i called my mother and told her the news. she graciously offered to jump straight on a plane and come to me. but i said no, what was the point? i didn't know what was going to happen yet. i think that was my denial, i still expected it to all be a big mistake.
i then had to pack my bag and head back to the hospital. my mothers last words to me - please take your angel with you. now - i should mention, our belongings have been in storage for 6 months and had only just been delivered. so the place is a mess and there are boxes everywhere. i hang my angel that mum made me on the christmas tree every year so i thought it would be with the christmas decorations. not there. went through all my personal boxes, not there. i found caitlins angel, emilys angel, but i don't know where my angel is. this threw me in more of a panic. finally caitlin and emily said hey - take our angels, that way our angels can watch over you in hospital, and your angel is hiding in the house watching over us.
So angel crisis averted, it was a very long hug to the girls - i did not want to let go. and then it was a quick drive back to the hospital to turn myself in. i mean, get admitted. almost the same thing really....
Introduction
Hi, my name is Rebecca, and I'm an alcoho....wait, wrong meeting..... Hi, my name is Rebecca, and I have stage 2 cervical cancer. Yay me. (that was sarcasm, i can't find a sarcasm font...)
I've been told I have to keep a journal and allow my emotions to come out on paper. I don't do that. I tell stories. I make people laugh. I DON'T keep journals to psychoanalyze myself. So, I will do what I do best. I will share my experiences with you.
I can't promise that every day will be entertaining. But I promise to share it all - the good, the bad, the ugly. And hey, it will most likely be super descriptive and gross at times, because that's what nurses like to do! You've been warned! I'd love to include a cool picture about now, but my iphone won't reach my cervix. So you've been saved....for now....
I've been told I have to keep a journal and allow my emotions to come out on paper. I don't do that. I tell stories. I make people laugh. I DON'T keep journals to psychoanalyze myself. So, I will do what I do best. I will share my experiences with you.
I can't promise that every day will be entertaining. But I promise to share it all - the good, the bad, the ugly. And hey, it will most likely be super descriptive and gross at times, because that's what nurses like to do! You've been warned! I'd love to include a cool picture about now, but my iphone won't reach my cervix. So you've been saved....for now....
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