The Horrific and the Hilarious...

Tried to write this on Wednesday but couldn't sit at the computer and do it. Yesterday I felt like I really shouldn't try again, wanted to really rest my arm still. Today, I wrote a fiction piece and still feel okay so I'm going to give it a try before I forget the funny parts. 

Okay, now that we've got the timeline established...

Horrific is probably an overstatement but holy shit that sucks doesn't flow as well.

I told you that they kept telling me it was going to hurt and that I was fine with that. I have a high threshold and sometimes things hurt. I started to get nervous when the nurse told me they'd be sending me home with pain pills. Oh. That level of hurt. Okay, that's different. 

So I was a little stressed but still. It gets good results, I've been limited in what I can do for months now. I'm ready to be better. Deep breath. 

The first thing they do is take some blood. Some blood. The nurse asked me if I get woozy at the sight of blood or needles, Nope. I'm good. Then she, and her assistant, plopped down the supplies. Two GIANT tubes for my blood. Umm...how much blood? Like, that looks like a lot. But okay. Then they take the blood away to the spinner to separate the platelets and the plasma. Which is the first place where things might go wrong, you have to get enough platelets for the process to work. So fingers crossed I've got a good platelet count.

She went over the discharge instructions while my blood was spinning. Which was good because I wanted to know why I couldn't workout. I'm 55. If I don't keep moving, I can't keep moving. And it was what I thought at first. General instructions for knees and hips were on there too. So they can't do shit for weeks and weeks but I can work out (gently) as soon as I feel like I can tolerate it. No big arm swings, no weight lifting until I'm through with physical therapy, but I can walk within a few days and I can run as long as I don't get arm crazy next week. Whew!

Then Dr. Bettencourt came in and was talking to me about the procedure as he scanned my arm to see exactly where the platelets would be injected. He told me that it was okay if I didn't like him at the end. That I could call him any name I wanted to and that was okay. He would be using a little numbing on the surface so the needle itself wouldn't sting so much, but that they can't numb the area they are working on because if they do the platelets won't stick, so it hurts. No way around it. 

I told him that it was okay. That sometimes in life things just suck and there is nothing to be done about it but get through. He was like...wow. That's true. I mean I know I'm telling you that about your arm but that's just good life lessons. That's good stuff. Thank you. 

So I've given my doctor the end of a blog wrap up lesson so that's nice. 

Then as he was scanning I hear a "hunh..." 

Well that's not what I want to hear. 

It looks like from this angle that I have a tear in my ligament. So it's not just a strain, it's an actual tear. 

Does that mean this isn't the right treatment? 

It doesn't. In fact this is the exact right treatment for a partial tear. What he's hunhing about is that I should be in a lot more pain than I am. But... I have a high threshold. It hurts but I've dealt with it. 

So now I'm feeling even more okay about the treatment. It's the right one for a tear. I've been dealing with the pain from a tear better than he would expect so I should be able to deal with the pain from the treatment well too, is what I was thinking. 

And then...

Okay, so the treatment is unlike anything I have ever been through. It's no joke painful. Similar to the uterine biopsy but takes longer. I did crack up the medical team. Their only patient to mix "oh my goodness" with "oh holy shit that hurts" I am unique. I tried every distancing trick in my book. I tried reading. I tried pretending to be someplace else. I tried breathing through it. I tried leaning in to it. Oh holy shit. When he used the needle to move the tear around and get the platelets all around it...that was the worst. Right up to the point where the needle went against the radial head and...wow. The kind of pain that makes you break out in sweat. 

Now the thing with most treatments like that as soon as the needle is out, the injection stops or the cutting stops you get some relief. Not with this. As soon as the needle was out Dr. Bettencourt left to write up some notes and the nurse and the assistant stayed with me because...

I was going to vomit or pass out. Not sure which was coming first but it was coming. The room got very small as my vision did the tunnel thing. They brought me an ice pack for the back of my neck and a juice box and told me that it was normal and that I was doing great. It did not feel great. I ended up not passing out and not vomiting but it was a close call on both things.

And then I was fine. Like it passed and I was remarkably fine. Great. Left to go get my prescription filled. 

I drove myself to the appointment. I had asked if I could and was told that it would be fine. Which ended up being good because Brent had a stomach virus earlier this week and it would have not been great for him to have to drive me. So I needed to drive to Walgreens and then home. At 5 PM through Beaverton. Oh my gosh...what a mistake. 

The traffic was horrible and my elbow started to throb when I was miles away from being done. I kept repeating to myself that I was fine. That I only had to wait a little bit then I could take a pain pill and just crash. It would be fine. Because traffic was so bad I decided to go to the Walgreens closest to the house since it would be right turn in and out instead of trying to turn left against traffic. We don't usually use that Walgreens because it's kind of a mess. But surely it would be fine for a quick fill.

Surely. 

I finally get there and the line is about 10 deep. Texted Brent to let him know where I was, how long the line was, and not to expect me for awhile still. Finally get up to the counter and the tech says, "Just to let you know we are short staffed and closing early today at 6 so we probably won't get to this until tomorrow." 

My mind raced to "I can't, just can't. I can't get into the car again and drive all the way back to the other Walgreens don't make me..." My face crumpled and I tried to hold it together but the tears were in my eyes right away. "Oh please. Is these anyway you can fill this tonight? I just...." and the panic, tears and let's face it middle aged white lady of the situation all worked in my favor as she checked with the pharmacist and they filled my prescription right then. Faster than I had even expected walking in. 

If I embarrassed I might have been embarrassed about tearing up in front of a stranger but it was totally involuntary and apparently exactly the right thing to do in that situation. 

Got my pills, got home, and whew...

So that was the horrible parts. Ready for the hilarious bits? Or at least to me?

When the doctor came in to do the procedure he asked me what kind of music I liked. 

Anything but opera.

Okay. Who has their phones ready? 

His nurse pulls out her phone. What do you want to hear? 

He asks me again for input.

Whatever helps you concentrate. 

Metallica it is!

I'm fine with that. 

His nurse says, How about the Eagles station?

Oh you know my heart. That's perfect. He checks with me again that the Eagles will be fine. 

She sets up the Eagles station to play on Spotify and the first few notes of a song start and I just start laughing. Well, maybe not this one. 

It was Don't Fear the Reaper. 

Oh no! Let's skip that one! 

I'm fine. I actually like the song, I just think it's funny. They are both probably too young to recognize it just yet.

(Nurse) Oh no! I know it. I was raised with all of this. My parents are big in to these older songs.

So the painful part of the procedure has already started.

Another song starts and it's yet again not an Eagles song. 

Dr. Bettencourt asks if they've just got an Eagles greatest hits channel.

The nurse finds it. 

And...

Somebody's gonna hurt someone...before the night is through...

Oh my gosh. And yes, it was true. Somebody did. 

The other part was after everything was done and they were waiting with me to get over the shock part Dr. Bettencourt came back in with his peace offering. He hands me a cup and there is a cookie in it. 

I thank him and ask if it's a macaron.

Oh no! It's the world's best cookie from Trader Joe's. It's an oreo dipped in dark chocolate with that cream ganache over it. So good!

So I thank him and tell him I appreciate the gesture but I can't eat wheat. 

He snatches it away from me super fast. I wasn't trying to kill you! Just hurt you a little!

Ha!

So yeah, it was horrible and hilarious. 

I feel better today than I did yesterday which was better than the day before. I did take the pain pills the first day and took one before bed last night as well. It's still fairly sore and now we are in the hard part of the recovery where I feel like I should be doing more to help Brent since he's been doing everything but I shouldn't do a lot because I really do want this to work and part of my job to ensure that is to not fuck up the work within the first week. 

So I'm back off to sit on my ass with my arm on it's own cute little pillow and rest. Next week will start physical therapy so you get to hear me whine about that. 

It's the gift that keeps on giving!