I get all the pre-op poking and touching tomorrow, my personal favourite, the trans-catheter urine sample. the abject indignity of it is unparalleled. Fortunately the last 2 times I endured this it was with an awesome nurse who makes me feel as comfortable as one can be while being defiled in this way. Hoping to go 3 for 3 and get her again tomorrow.
In other news, today I threw out most of my socks. I had a LOT of socks. They were mostly old and ratty, which didn't matter because generally if it's sock weather, I'm wearing boots so as long as there are no holes cutting off circulation in your toes, who gives a fuck? Anyway, my point of this is while my inner sock hoarder freaked the fuck out, I casually thought to myself
"If I'm not dead in 2 weeks I'll get more socks"
Look, last weeks revelation about the actual size of my aneurysm is doing my fucking head in. I've done just enough reading to be dangerous. Right now I'd equate the feeling to when you were a kid, and you've overfilled a water balloon but you think you can still make it across the lawn with it to nail your friend in the face with it. Except you only get about 3/4 the way there before the balloon bursts all over your hand. It feels like that, except happening inside you and completely out of your control. When you're a kid it's thrilling, as an adult it's a reason to play it a bit fast and loose with your Xanax prescription. Anyway, my long winded point is, you have to be comfortable with that you could die. I am. I most certainly don't WANT to and will make every effort not to do so, but, you know, shit happens. And a lot of awesome people have already died this year - AM I TO BE PART OF THE RAPTURING OF THE AWESOME!!?? #STAYTUNED
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Sunday, July 24, 2016
This was last week. Doesn't this look nice? It was completely wonderful and everything 5 days at the beach should be.
This week: echocardiogram, a cancelled CT Scan (it was my understanding I didn't need an angiogram (havw I mentioned I DETEST Angiograms? I do) but now maybe I do need one. Anyway that story is still unfolding. I will update as information becomes available) Next week is the dentist, and then another pre-surgery touch-up.
Surgery is scheduled for Aug 8. My current feeling on the situation is dread. Not of the actual surgery, THAT really has nothing to do with me, either I die, or I wake up. when I wake up t becomes my issue. What I dread is how fucking unpleasant it all is. The lead-up, with the testing and the poking and prodding and invasive touching. The follow-up, with the exhaustion, and the general feeling of like shit. The naked vulnerability, I loathe it.
I know it gets better, I know it could be worse and I am lucky as hell. I do, I have insurance, the support of friends and family, were it not for a series of events that led me to this point, I would more than likely be dead. So I am grateful that this is happening but OH MY GOD I DON'T WANT TO.
Plot twist! (well sort of)
(well not really, its an update, more than anything)
So I had started this post the other day and then I forgot about it and then yesterday I had my echo and CT. At least that,s how it started Had the echo on schedule and the tech was so horrified by what he saw he immediately brought me down to the er where hushed conversations were had and when I asked what the actual fuck was going on I was told a doctor would be along to talk to me. So it turns out that my aneurysm is at 9 cm and all the doctors and nurses were very twitchy about it and asked questions about am I ok and did you walk in here and how much pain are you in and I'm all DUDES I JUST CAME HERE TO GET AN ECHO AND MAYBE A CT SCAN. It didn't help that I hadn't eaten breakfast, and by 2 or 3 in the afternoon, whatever it was I was becoming hangry. For most of the day I thought I would be staying there and getting emergency surgery that night, I got a CT Scan w/contrast around 5, FINALLY after calling my GP, my Cardiologist and god knows who-all else they finally talked to my surgeon, who had been surgeoning all day - he looked at the tests and said it wasn't leaking and I could go home and continue with the existing plan. So. Surgery in 2 weeks and 4 days. I am comfortable with this decision.
That said, I was a lot MORE comfortable before I knew how uncomfortable I SHOULD feel.