More fevers. Docs decided to drain ooze.
Another cannula tissued. I think it is my mutant clotting factor that keeps blocking them and fluids start going into my tissues (instead of the vein), leaving large, painful bruises. Docs decided to put in a PICC line.
Was told I could have both done together under a twilight sedation – ie, I would be off my head when it happened. I signed a consent form.
PICC line nurse came and told me that it couldn’t be done all together. That I couldn’t have the twilight sedation, but it wouldn’t be that painful, and it would be all over within half an hour. She lied.
It was painful, and it took ages. And it failed.
She got from below the crook of the arm, to the armpit, and then it wouldn’t go any further. After over an hour of stinging local anaesthetic, poking, prodding, pulling, and quite serious pain, she was forced to give up and pull everything out.
By that stage I was almost hysterical, and they left me alone to chill out for a while. And I had missed Oprah.
Poor dad was almost as traumatised as I was, so a few hours off was a huge relief.
Eventually the douchecanoe* came to wheel me down for my next procedure. I asked the nurse that accompanied me about the sedation, and she said she would ask when we arrived.
On arrival, I was told that “we don’t do that here”, and “it’s not an option”. At this point, the pain was getting worse and my temperature was rocketing. I had also missed two doses of antibiotics, so the feelings of fear, pain, and extreme sadness were almost overwhelming.
So I cracked it. I refused to consent to the procedure until I was able to speak to my doctor. I got cranky about being patronised, being told that I was being a wuss, that I was causing trouble, that I was compromising my medical care.
Fuck that. I know my rights, and I know what I am capable of withstanding. And I know I am not a wuss. There are many things you can say about me, but I don’t think anybody has the right to call me a wuss – especially after these last few weeks.
So eventually the gorgeous Armani arrived (part of Team Lara), and arranged some valium for me, as well as another cannula – so at least they can get antibiotics into me while we argue about the PICC line again.
I got the valium (tablets), and 30 mins later went in for the procedure. The valium had not yet taken effect, but I was feeling a little calmer.
Under ultrasound, they found the pocket of ooze has shrunk, and there was no point doing an aspiration. Then they did a CT scan just to be sure.
Tomorrow we will look at the result of the CT scan and have another confab. More news as it comes to hand.
But I would like it on the record that being needle shy after everything I have been through does not make me a wuss.
And I would like to say a huge thank you to Steph, who despite having three kids of her own, has been by my side so much this last week, and I honestly don’t know how I would have go through some of those days without her humour and strength.
*Speaking of the douchcanoe – both Steph and mum met him today, and bot agree with my assessment that he is generally a kind man who means well, and there is no benefit in reporting him.