I took off of work. My grandma was babysitting the twins and I arranged for my dad to pick up Skye from school and bring her back to the house while my mom came with me.
I arrived at the hospital in the Day Surgery section, got on my gown, and sat with my mom. By now you can probably tell that I want my mommy all the time. There are several reasons for this. The first is that my husband isn't very good with stress and you'll learn later on. The second is that we wanted him to save his days for down the road - his job is very strict about taking off. And lastly, thinking or knowing you could die really makes a person want their mommy.
The nurses talked to me about how they would do the Mediport placement first, than Dr. Howard would come in and do the bone marrow biopsy. Next the Interventional Radiologist came in and I showed him my chest tattoo. We talked a bit about what was going to happen and where he would place the Mediport and then he left.
Shortly after they rolled me off to interventional radiology. They told my mom and I that they couldn't do the bone marrow biopsy because of a scheduling conflict (it had been scheduled a week ago). The nurse with me was pretty upset and I heartbroken. Rolling down the cold hallway I couldn't stop the tears pouring from my eyes.
We got into the room and the Interventional Radiologist and my nurse were arguing in a class room. I couldn't hear them but I knew then that he was the reason we weren't doing both. I just talked to him and he didn't even have the balls to tell me to my face.
The anesthesiologist came in smiling and ready and talked to me about his role. He was still under the impression we were doing both which confirmed for me that it was the Interventional Radiologist who was causing a problem. We talked about my waking up during my biopsy and promised me I wouldn't feel or remember a thing. I didn't. It was smooth sailing.
On the way back to my room, my nurse told me that I should write a letter to administration. She told me that I shouldn't have to deal with this on top of everything else and that I was too young for "this shit". I agreed. She also told my mother to write a letter, which she did.
My hair was caked with blood so I asked them for a shampoo cap. They had never heard of it so I asked them to call the ICU and they got one for me. The nurses were so happy to have learned about something new. I was pretty out of it so I just giggled like a stoner while my mom and the nurse washed me up. It was an odd combination of laughing and crying that I hadn't felt before. I just wanted everything to be over and to start treatment. I didn't want to go thru anything else.
Soon I was discharged and I went to the cancer clinic to re-schedule my bone marrow biopsy. It was now going to be done Wednesday February 18th.
When I got home I talked to my sister who used to work at the hospital I was being treated and she gave me a name of someone large and in charge to talk to. I immediately sent her an email and explained what had happened to me, why these procedures were supposed to be done together, what an inconvenience it was for me, that I have three small children and have to arrange for childcare, and I asked her for an explanation.
And so began the investigation.
(remember my dream?)
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