CW: Cuss Words, Medical, Talk of Needles & IVs…
.
.
.
Okay.
So, I’ve been trying to write this post since Thursday afternoon, I just haven’t really had the words, the time, or the patience. On Wednesday, I had my first ever sympathetic nerve block procedure/surgery for my leg. So, I guess I’ve come to talk a little bit about that because, if I’m honest… I have some fucking complaints.
First of all, I didn’t find out that I needed to have a Covid test done until Monday afternoon. Supposedly, the office staff didn’t fill out my chart all the way and they had “no way to contact me.” Which sounds like bullshit, if you ask me. I was only given a 7-page long packet to fill out when I had my initial appointment on April 23rd. So, that made no sense to me. Which is why I was having a Q-tip inserted into my nose at 8am on Tuesday morning.
By that point, I still didn’t even know what time my damn surgery was. And it wasn’t until almost 5pm on Tuesday that I found out what time I would be having surgery at all. Only because I called Rush in Oak Park upwards of twenty fucking times on Tuesday.
Twenty. 👏🏻 Fucking. 👏🏻Times. 👏🏻
Turns out, I was due at the hospital at 2pm on Wednesday.
Okay. Great. Their list of demands were lengthy and annoying at best. Shower both the night before, and the morning of with soap that I knew I couldn’t touch because I would break out into hives. Wear no lotion. Use no deodorant. Eat and drink nothing after Midnight. Do this, do that. Blah. Blah. Blah.
I showed up 15-minutes early, sat in the waiting room, and then I was instructed to pee in a cup. You know, after not being able to eat or drink for over 14-hours. Has no one ever told them that you have to insert liquids into the body to get liquids out? I thought the nurse would get sick of my snarky ass but, she didn’t. Her name was Allison, and I liked her. She got my vein on the first try, too, and didn’t dig to China in my arm despite how fucking dehydrated I was at that point.
(Kudos to you, Allison.)
From there, I sat in the “patient waiting area” in my two hospital gowns, itchy as FUCK hospital socks, and a warm blanket by myself for almost an additional hour after that. Then, the transporter came to get me- I didn’t catch her name but she had gorgeous braids. I liked her too. She was friendly, and she made the ride up to the next waiting area bearable. That’s when things really started to get annoying.
I met with the anesthesiologist, and she was nice. She asked me a few easy questions, and then sent in a nurse who explained everything to me. What they were going to do, how long it was going to take, the whole nine yards. Sometimes, I think nurses know more than the doctor’s about bedside manner. Everything was a little repetitive but, tolerable until she sent in a doctor who was not my doctor but one that was going to assist with the surgery.
He was a fucking moron. (There’s no other way to put it.)
First, he asked how many time I’ve had this done, and it took me repeating myself seven times before he accepted my answer. He then asked about allergies, like the nurse had, and I told him that I have chronic idiopathic angioedema, which can and has sent me into anaphylactic shock in the past. I then had to explain to a doctor what that was, how it works, and what is being done to treat it. I also had to tell him what to do in the case that I broke out into hives while under the anesthesia.
He looked at me like I didn’t know what I was talking about. He made me repeat myself numerous times, and he is absolutely lucky I did not yell at him and call him a fucking moron to his face. He also did not appreciate when I dumbed it down and said that I basically break out into hives at random for absolutely no fucking reason.
I mean… *shrug* 🤷🏻♀️
He didn’t understand when I explained it in medical terms so, what else was I supposed to do? More often than not, I realize just how much doctors and nurses dislike me. I am very in tune with my body. If something is wrong and I know about it, I will tell you. I may not be a doctor or a nurse but, I know when something hurts. I can also tell you exactly what all of my diagnoses are, what I do to treat them, and what I take to treat them. The list I carry around is for your convenience and understanding and not mine.
I’ve been breaking out into horrible, welt-like hives and going into anaphylaxis since the 7th grade at random. Trust me, I know a lot more about this than you do. I have one known allergy, and that is bees. No, I have no other known allergies. Yes, I’ve been through all the stick and poke and scratch tests for everything on God’s green earth. If a room is too warm? Hives. Too cold? Hives. Someone walks into work wearing too much perfume? Hives. I can literally sit here and name every single fucking one of my triggers but, what triggers hives one day may not always trigger them the next.
Chronic. Idiopathic. Angioedema.
Yes, it sucks. Yes, I just deal with it. No, I have no other choice.
He chose to preemptively order some IV Benadryl “just in case” and once they administered that, he was gone. Finally, my actual doctor came into the little curtained off “room” I was in, spoke to me a bit about the procedure and asked if I had any questions. When I didn’t, I was being wheeled away into the OR where I was in and out a lot faster than I thought I’d be. Or maybe it just seemed quick to me because all I remember is being moved from the hospital bed onto the table and told to lay on my stomach with my arms above my head.
That’s it. After that, I was gone.
Once I was awake and done being monitored, the nice transport lady brought me back downstairs, and I was able to get back in my own clothes. And wouldn’t you know it? Hives. Go figure. By that point though, I didn’t care, I had 100mg of Benadryl in my veins already. I had more Benadryl and a set of Epi-Pens in my purse, and I was ready to get the hell out of there.
Everything hurt.
Every bump in the car hurt. Bending hurt. Breathing hurt.
For anyone out there who is going to have a sympathetic nerve block procedure done, be warned… it hurts more than they tell you. I mean, obviously, they’re only putting a massive needle in your spine, right? Sleeping on Wednesday and Thursday was almost impossible. I’ve also been running a mild fever on and off since late Thursday night early Friday morning, having a lot of tenderness around the injection site, my hives have been V A S T L Y more violent, and I haven’t been able to sleep or get comfortable for shit.
So today, I am sitting at work, sipping hot orange tea with honey and praying people don’t talk to me. My pain levels have not decreased, if anything it’s gotten worse. The swelling and discoloration in my leg have not changed. I’ve simply added more pain and discomfort to my daily life, and I’m supposed to have this done again on the 19th… I wanted to give it a couple days because, all of my research online says that it could take up to 3-days to take affect but here I am at almost 8pm on Saturday, and nothing has changed.
I feel defeated.
I feel angry. I fucking hurt. I don’t understand why nothing is helping me. I don’t know what else to do or who to talk to. But… I guess that’s all for now.
Thanks for listening…
-Sky
Leave a comment