Biopsies

October 9th, my prayer army begins to pray for me from the moment I leave my house until my procedure is finished. For some of them this means beginning at 4:00 am. Although this is a day I am dreading, I feel the comfort of being surrounded with prayer. As I walk into the hospital where the procedure will take place, the familiar sights, sounds and smells bombard my senses taking me back six years ago. In 2007 and 2008 I spent a combined total of four weeks in this hospital. A flood of emotions overwhelms me. It is a love/hate relationship I have with this place.  The memories of all that happened here, learning about this rare condition, the pain, and suffering that took place still haunt me.  On the other hand, I am so thankful for the care I received. I can still see the faces of some of my favorite nurses. I remember our short daily conversations, the stories they would share about their family, and I wonder how they are doing now. I remember the friends that came to visit me every time. I remember the “table of cheer” as I call it, filled with cards, balloons, flowers, and gifts from loved ones.

As I enter the waiting room, it is strangely empty and quiet, perhaps it is the early hour. My eyes met with the mother of the lone family in the corner. I exchange a small smile and a knowing glance. I walk up to the check in desk, the computer is down. The receptionist fills me in and mentions this might take a while. After several minutes all appropriate release forms have been signed and I am sent back to the waiting room. My husband had arrived after parking the car and waiting with him was our daughter, who has stopped by on her way to an early class. It is not long before my parents have joined us.

A nurse calls me back and asks my family to wait while she preps me for the procedure. While she is taking vitals she asks if there are any drug allergies or adverse reactions to anesthesia, “yes, lots and I believe there is a list in the computer” I replied. She begins typing and says “Yes, you do, anesthesia will be here soon to talk to you about these”. We had requested a specific anesthesiologist but he no longer worked at the hospital. He had been the only one who seemed to know exactly what Mastocytosis patients could tolerate. Although, I always brought my anesthesia records with me to every pre-op consultation, no other anesthesiologist seemed to be able to follow the  same protocol. The results had not been good. I had a hard time coming out from the effects of the medications hours later, trouble breathing, feeling like my whole body was on fire, drop in blood pressure and body temperature, violent vomiting even while asleep, occasionally tearing my esophagus, and sometimes I had to be hospitalized for an outpatient procedure because they could not stabilize me. The effects last beyond that day. Although I am no longer visibly sick,  I am usually not myself again for about one to two weeks. I have trouble concentrating, not remembering things that happened, starting something on the stove and then walking away, and things like that.

Soon a young doctor enters the pre-op bay. He has fully read the computer information, plans to follow what has worked in the past,  and feels confident of what he needs to do. My GI  specialist arrives and after some quick goodbyes to my family, we are off for the procedure. The procedure goes very well taking less time than anticipated. As I am in recovery, I notice the anesthesiologist has been hanging around my door keeping an eye on me. I am doing well with only some mild nausea that disappeared after some medication. We have success! Soon I am receiving discharge orders and on my way home. I am alert, feeling well, and able to enjoy the afternoon watching movies with my Mom. I am so thankful the day went so well, it was definitely an answer to prayer. The results will take about 10 days to come back. In the mean time, I am learning patience.