Now for the hard one. The roller coaster was heading toward the 360 degree loop and I wasn't allowed off. Happy Birthday, my pretty scarves and the box set of the Good life unwrapped and ready for my return. Birthday hugs and kisses from the PS's and then off with my packed bag and DH to the hospital by 8am.
We were early so waited in the car for a bit then walked slowly around to admission and then to Nuclear Medicine. Alone in the waiting room, DH and I were soon joined by my little lady in turquoise. I was right. She was alone, and I felt awful for her. Then in came another lady, with a friend. We were all there for the same thing: sentinel node scan.
I'm sure I don't understand this correctly, but I would be injected with a dye directly into the area of the tumour and the dye would move up into the lymph node, and they would track it with a special camera. This would ensure the BSS took out the correct node to test whether the cancer had spread into the lymph. If so, more surgery would need to be done.
We were called first, and I had to put on this papery gown. The Top top Radiologist's fellow soldier came in with an arsenal of the same weapons, and after some explanations and words of encouragement about how much it would hurt, she administered the same torture. I wasn't a good girl this time - I was too tense. "oh this is a bit tense, yes a bit of a tense one" said TTR's cheerful little lieutenant. Nevertheless the blue dye popped in and I looked forward to seeing it later after the surgery when it passed through my body in a natural way. Then MRI type bed was moved electronically under the camera block, and my left arm posed above my head artfully while photos were taken. All good until the block moved to hover above my face. As it moved closer, I whimpered, then cried D I don't like this and burst into tears. It kept coming. I sobbed. DH had leapt into action to grab my outthrust glasses and grip tight to my hand. It stopped as I was about to be crushed. "sorry about that " said the nurse, (who looked like the scary bone doctor in Grey's Anatomy). "I know what it's like - we had to lie under it when I was at university". I felt much better knowing how brave she was.
Well, then up we get, and the little TTR comes in and says "great pictures, you have great pictures, we will probably only need one more session." ( I confess to a secret pride that my scans were up to scratch - I have a reputation to uphold in the realm of photgraphing the inner body. When I had my gall bladder scanned a few years ago the student radiologist took extra shots for her credit portfolio, because my body was so clear inside.) So then we were sent out to walk the streets for 20 minutes to get the dye moving, and "please move your arms".
Now I know DH, when given a medical instruction, he carries it out to the letter. (I know this because, when I was birthing the older PS, the doc put DH in charge of the pain relieving gas and told him"don't give her too much".) so off we went out into the beautiful sunny day, and DH, carrying my bag heavy with books for waiting rooms, said "right off you go - power walk then!" So I did, and in honour of my sisters who I knew would have done it with me if they were there, I poked up my elbows and wiggled down the steet. DH kept up with me until 5 minutes out the road dipped into a steep hill. "I'll wait up here in the shade. You walk down to the bottom and back up and then we'll walk back to the hospital. That should be 20 minutes." OK.
We got back with a few minutes to spare so, wanting to ensure the dye moved properly, I went into the ladies and danced in front of the mirror. When I got sick of myself we went back to the receptionist, and were told to wait. We didn't expect to wait long so didn't get our books out. I paced and rubbed, chatted and paced some more. The turquoise lady returned from her walk so I went to talk to her. My surgery had been moved up to earlier in the day so our BSS could fit her in - he was apparently planning to go on a month's holiday from Saturday, and wanted all his patients sorted before he left.
The wait was frustrating so I asked the receptionist... "not sure" doubtfully. DH got out his book and started to read. We were called. The second time under the block didn't see me any braver when it came over my face, but DH was ready with the hand in advance. After that the litle TTR wielded a blue marker and decorated my chest an left breast with direction arrows, in case the BSS wouldn't find it on his own. Chop chop and we were done - off you go collect your photos at the reception. Little TTR touched my arm and said "you'll be Okay".
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