The myelogram and CT Scan went off without a hitch on Monday.  I’ve not heard any results as of this writing, but I have left a message with the Dr.’s office to call me back with the results.

The procedure was, well, different.  It wasn’t necessarily a painful procedure, but the couple of days after have been less than desirable.  I say “that painful” because it was a bit uncomfortable.  I mean, I had someone poking a needle in my back and pushing some foreign liquid into my spine.  Not the most friendly thing I could have had done.

The Procedure-Pre-Op

Like they always do, I had to have some blood taken.  I made the mistake of letting the nurse know that it was my birthday and that she better take it easy on me.  I’ll keep my mouth shut one day.

After I had told her this, she yelled across the room to another nurse, “Bring me a butterfly, please!”  Not knowing what a “butterfly” was in nursing terms, I asked.  She, not so quietly said, “It’s a little baby needle.”

Great.  Now the whole world, or the part of the world that was in that area, knew I was a wimp.  But I gotta say, it certainly didn’t hurt, at all!  I may have to tell the next person to want my blood that it’s my birthday.

Of course, the nurses were extra nice. We laughed and cut-up.  No pun intended.  My “clowning around” personality came through I guess.

The Procedure – Conflict

The next stop was the X-ray room.  Considering I kind of knew what was about to happen, I still wasn’t all that worried or nervous, which worries me and makes me nervous.

The first item up for business was the explanation of the process and where they were going to be focusing the tests.  My cervical spine, aka the neck, is the only location they were going to be scanning.

This bothered me because I just don’t think the problem is in my neck.  I think it’s lower down, in my thoracic area.  We talked for a few minutes, I almost put the process off, the X-ray Tech called the Dr’s office to confirm that this is what he was waning, it was, so I did.

The Procedure

They had me lie down on the x-ray table, face down and they had these should rests that I had to make sure my shoulders were firmly placed against.  Why?  I’ll tell you shortly.

Some dude in a white coat then comes in to do the poking.  He told me that I needed to lie still and that I was going to feel a sting.  These guys amaze me.  He was right to a certain extent.  I wouldn’t so much call it a sting though.  Stings, sting.  This kind of hurt pretty bad.

He was just applying the anesthetic.  Now, I’m not sure what the difference would have been had he not done this.  I’m thinking he has to use a needle in both instances so why not just do the do once?

Either way, he then told me I would feel pressure.  Spot on.  I then may feel some tingling and some discomfort in my legs, head and pressure in my ears.  Pretty much spot on.  Pretty much. As quickly as he came, he was done and the dye was in.

Now, they were going to be scanning my neck but they stuck the needle and inserted the dye in my lower back.  “How does that work?” you say.  Remember the shoulder rests?

It was at this point that they tilted the table so that I was head down which allowed the dye to run from the lower back to my neck.  Turns out it’s easier to insert things into the spine from the lower back.  The vertebrae aren’t as close together down there.

I could feel the dye running up my back and it was at the point it reached my shoulder area that the majority of the pain I experienced happened.  It felt like there was a fire burning under my skin that spread out to both of my shoulders.  No, I don’t know how that actually feels but I have an idea now.  I thought maybe that was where the problem was with my back.  Maybe it had leaked out and they would see the actually problem causing so much pain.  I didn’t like this part at all and they didn’t seem too concerned, so I quit crying.

The rest of the process was pretty dull.  They took a few x-rays while I was in there.  Moved me to various positions.  No big deal.

Next was a log-roll onto a gurney where I went for a ride to get the CT scan.  I log-rolled to that table, some scans done, and then I was in the recovery room for the next hour, I was told it would be an hour anyway.

The Procedure – Post-Op

Fourty-five minutes later, I was laying in the recovery room on a table that was inclined to get the dye to again move back down to my neck.  They had to perform another scan.

What does this mean?  Why are they doing ANOTHER scan?  I’m not sure.  My thoughts were that they found something and needed to get another look.  Or maybe I moved and they didn’t get a good scan the first time.  I’m sticking with the first thought.

The recovery at home was worse than the actual process.  A lot of discomfort in my lower back and it’s taken a couple of days now to get back to some sort of comfort level.

Anyway, not sure what the tests will show.  I’ll update you as soon as I know something.

Conclusion

If you are ever told that you will need the procedure, don’t worry about it.  It’s not as bad as it sounds.

Because of HIM

SC

The morning of the surgery wasn’t bad really.  Ok, there are parts to the morning that were bad.  The worst part, for a while, was not being able to drink anything.  More specifically, not being able to drink coffee!

I’m thinking part of that was a mind over matter issue.  The command, “Don’t drink anything after midnight the night before surgery”, made not being able to drink coffee worse, I think.  You know, if someone tells you you can’t do something, what’s the first thing you want to do?  That very thing.  Same principle with the coffee.  I think if they were to rephrase all of that “after midnight” mess, us real folks would be able to deal with it better.

I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I was going to be, for a while.  I took to my own little world on the trip down and stayed there as long as I could.  It really kept the nerves at bay. 

At this point I would say the most worrisome issue was coming home the next day.  Lots of snow was expected.  My mom would be driving me back home, which is worrisome in and of itself.  Add to that that she hasn’t driven in Nashville much, if at all, plus the addition of snow.  Which is why we had planned on staying overnight the next night in a hotel if necessary.  Turns out we didn’t have to do that.  Mom drove us home, with some directions, just fine.  And, I only dirtied up 2 pair of underwear on the trip home.

Anyway, I arrived at the hospital and waited in the waiting room.  There were about a gazillion other folks there, so I thought I was going to have to wait a while.  I was still doing much better than I thought I would be.  A little nervous by now I’m sure.  But, I was ready to get this over with.

The waiting wasn’t that long and the time between the waiting room and making it upstairs to my room, was uneventful.  It was a very nice room, might I add.  The room was probably between 200 and 300 sq. ft. Half hardwood half normal hospital flooring.  It had a couch that folded out to a bed and it also had a chair and a nice little table between the two.  AND I didn’t have to share the room with anyone.

I did wait in my room for about an hour before anything happened.  Then, the nurse came in and she brought my nerves with her.

Because of HIM

SC

CRASH! CRASH! BOOM! PFFSSHHTT!

“SCOTT!”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Carful he’s pulled out his IV!”

“SCOTT! WAKE UP!”

“I’M ALIVE!!!”  That was the first thought that came to me as I awoke looking up into the bright lights of what I assume was  from the the operating room.  I only assume because I was barely coherent.

I had been dreaming while I was under sedation.  I can’t remember what it was about exactly, but I remember being in a sword fight.  Fitting, I guess.  Dreaming of swords while undergoing the knife.

There were some more words from the guy behind me.  He wasn’t speaking to me.  I remember some expletives that I’ll not share with you but I heard him say, “CENSORED CENSORED!! He’s pulled out his IV!  Right there!”

A female voice said something that I couldn’t understand.

“I don’t give a CENSORED!  Needs to worry about the patient instead of that CENSORED CENSORED stupid phone.”

“Scott!  You’re OK!  You pulled out your IV,  just calm down for us!”

I did.

“Right there it’s on his side,” he said to the female voice.

“Sorry.” I said.  Tried to say anyway.  It was pretty hard to talk.

“It’s ok Scott.  You didn’t know what you were doing.”

My throat felt as if an elephant was sitting  on it and he had glass shards on his rump.  They had said I would have a sore throat when I awoke.  Couldn’t have been a more gross understatement.  Obviously, this guy has never been intubated.  Ever tried to swallow with an elephant on your throat?  It hurts.

A quick check of my teeth to make sure that all of my caps were in place and no chipped teeth.  The anesthesiologist said that in some cases they do slightly chip patients teeth while intubating.  Everything seemed to be in place.  It was hard to tell since my tongue, mouth, and lips felt as if they were covered by 100 grit sandpaper.  Covered or replaced that is.

“Chapstick.” I screamed in a barely audible rough voice.

“What?”  the sore throat guy said.

“I need some chapstick. Lips dry.”  I said in that very same rough scraggly voice that sounded like someone who had just had a tube yanked from his throat.  That’s right.  The first thing I asked for that I can remember was, chapstick.  I can’t stand dry lips.  I think there will be tons and tons of chapstick in Heaven.

“We might have some grease for your lips.” the female voice said.  Don’t think I ever got my chapstick or my grease until later.

“Mouth’s dry,” was my next attempt at a statement.  Soon after I had a mouthful of ice.  Now that I think about it, I wonder if they shoved so much in there just so that I couldn’t talk?  Didn’t care.  It was the BEST ice ever and at least the sandpaper was going away.

“HURTS!”

“OK. Just give me one second and I’ll fix you up.” Jan said.  That was the nurse that got me ready for surgery and also was there to wake me up.

My vision was blurry.  I was back in my room now.  Still not sure exactly how I got back to my room.  A very nice room at that.  I’ll have more about that in my next post. 

I looked at the clock.  Almost 1:30PM.  Surgery had taken about an hour or so.  I then glanced at the motion to my left and saw Jan moving toward my IV tubes, hoping she was about to administer something for this excruciating pain that was coming on me from so many different places.

“OH! IT HURTS!”

“Here is some Fentanyl,” Jan said.

“Ahhhh.” came the last thought I had as the medicine hit the pain.

And I slept.

Because of HIM

SC

Eight days until surgery.  A watched pot never boils.  I get it.

After stopping and starting and stopping one of the medications I’ve been taking, I’m once again on the starting side of that see-saw.  Sunday and Monday were absolutely horrible days when it comes to my pain level.  Sunday was off the charts and Monday was just barely on the chart.  So, I started the meds again yesterday afternoon and though I am hurting quite a bit today, it’s not like the last two by far.

So now I’m enjoying a lower level of pain while also just tolerating the side effects of this medication that I keep stopping and starting.  I’m much more tired, seem to be a bit more depressed, and really have zero motivation to do much of anything.  In fact, I’m a bit surprised that I’ve had the motivation to spew out these words as I have.

Do I think the side effects are worth it?  I should say so.  I’m so relieved that there’s only 8 more days.  Even the thought of the possibility of having to take this medication and feel like THIS forever, even with a lower level of pain, is not a very nice thought to entertain.

I’m not nervous about the surgery, yet.  There is one tiny part of the procedure that causes me a bit of worry, though.

For the surgeon to have access to the vertebrates (C6-C7) he is going to go in through my neck.  No, that doesn’t bother me.  He will then have to move my esophagus to the right a bit, just so that it’s out of the way.  Still, not very worrisome (though I do wonder how much of a sore throat I’ll have afterwords).

Now, this next part is the bit that causes the worry.  Just like moving my esophagus to the right, he’ll have to move my carotid artery to the left some just so it’s also out of the way.  I’m thinking that’s an important piece that I’ll need him to keep intact.  I’m hoping he goes easy on the coffee that morning.

Well, now that I’ve went over a little bit of the procedure with you, got a bit of the nerves stirred up.  It’ll pass.  It will all pass.

Think it’s time for a nap now.

Because of HIM,

SC