Still grounded

 Tomorrow morning (at the buttcrack of dawn, might I add) is my MRI. For those of you scratching your heads, my bad. "Let me sum up," as Inigo Montoya says. I need to back up a bit.

*beep beep beep beep*

Last Monday I had the EEG and was to have the neurology appointment directly afterwards. However, the neurologist had a family emergency so my appointment got punted to Tuesday afternoon.

After he listened to my story of why I was there, as if he didn't already know, he told me that the EEG looked normal. Yay! I have a brain! Shush, Hinrew. Then he said something a little discomfiting; "however, small things can hide in an EEG so I want you to have an MRI. If things look fine from there, I'll check on you in four months. My gut feeling is that we do not need to put you on anti seizure medicine as that would be life long and has serious side effects."

Um, yikes?

My husband, the engineer, growled afterwards, "if the MRI is the definitive test, why did they order an EEG instead of an MRI?" Good question. Nurse Lisa told me over the phone, and I could hear the groan and the roll of her eyes as she explained, that insurance companies most likely won't cover an MRI unless an EEG is done first, even though it's dumb because if they just did the MRI they'd have the results they were looking for instead of now paying for two tests. Which is pretty much what my mother had texted me as well.

So, tomorrow morning I am signed up for an MRI with and without contrast. I know I've had one of these before, but it's kind of a blur. The tech asked over the phone if I was claustrophobic so I'm going with they're sticking me in some kind of tube. Good news is I'm allowed to eat and drink normally beforehand, no fasting, yay. Undecided news is the "with contrast" part... I can't remember if I only have to drink that or if that's through an IV or both. Less yay. Not gonna get fussed about it, though. Not worth it.

I also will need to ask if the results get read by the neurologist and if his office will let me know what it said or if I need to call them, or what. I was told not to drive until the results of the EEG were in, and I was a good girl and didn't, though I've discovered as a 44-year-old woman what it feels like to be grounded. Not a fan! Very inconvenient, even during a pandemic when events and activity levels are much decreased. Grr. Then he ordered the MRI and said to not drive for another week, maybe two to three weeks, something about six months at which point my non existent eyebrows shot right off of my head. I hope he was kidding, cuz man, that ain't happening. I am going with a week as that's what he said first. So there. 

Tuesday I also saw my oncologist who went over all my numbers and pronounced everything perfect. So good, in fact, that she doesn't need to see me for six months, so I won't have to head down there at all this winter, wahoo! She also felt I was good to drive and that the troublesome fainting episode was simply a reaction to the blood draw.  She went so far as to make a note in my chart that I will be reclining for future blood draws. Nurse Lisa approves, as per her "for the love of all that is holy... would you please make sure they lay you down for blood draws!!!" Favorite doctor ever. Teehee.

So as you roll over and hit the alarm for the day or as you roll over and go back to sleep tomorrow around 6:45, send a prayer or a good thought that the MRI finds nothing more than a small sign etched onto my brain reading, "STOP JABBING MY HOST!" Thanks a bunch! Have a great week!

This is what an EEG looks like

I've been musing about a game we played at camp called, "I Have Never." You're supposed to tell the truth. Everyone is in a circle with an It in the center. It declares, "I have never _____" and they fill in the blank with something they've never done. Whoever else that applies to also leaves their spot in the circle and everyone scurries to find an open spot/chair/whatever and whoever is left becomes the new It. 

I used to say, "I have never been to Disney." It was true. I didn't go until I was married with three kids when my sweet hubby's whole family went together. 

Now I can no longer say, "I've never had an EEG."

I am smiling under the mask (made by the wonderful Annmarie) as my kind, chatty tech Christy prepped me. It involves me doing... absolutely nothing other than coming in with clean hair, haha! My kind of test! No fasting, no needles, WOOHOO!

She told me exactly what to expect before she even started fastening things to me. First off, she measured my head and figured out where she'd need to put the electrodes. She used a waxy crayon-like marker to denote where all the connections would be made. Then she swabbed me with a cold cleanser of some sort and started attaching the sticky parts with a paste. She said they used to use, back in the day, something similar to rubber cement which was awful to get cleaned off and made it look like you had dandruff for three days post-test. I'm always glad for advances in the medical field, haha!

So here's me all stickered up with my wires attached. The two on my chest are electrodes for my heart measurements. Dada mused that it looked like a nightmare to untangle and she laughed and commented that, "yes, it can be a spaghetti nightmare if you're not careful when you're cleaning them!"

For this particular EEG, which happens in the sleep lab, for the first several minutes all I had to do was open and close my eyes a few times and then keep them closed. What a great test for a mom to have to take! Christy even told me that if I fell asleep that it would be perfectly fine. She had me relax completely for several minutes in the quiet dark, I suppose to establish a baseline. While I was relaxing, I rambled around camp in my mind. I started up the hill at the pool where I realized how many pine needles there were on the ground as I waited for everyone to collect their towels and make it out of the pool house to join their group. Then we roamed, some campers sprinting, some lallygagging down to the camp store, and from there my memories took me into the kitchen where I relived some fun times washing pots and pans with Mot, one of the only times I really got to spend with him before he got married, and with Dan Dan the Marine Man as he sang alternate lyrics to the "Chicken Dance" which had me crying with laughter, and with Renee as she exclaimed, "the Hobart ate my scrubbie!" 

I could have reminisced all day, but that part of the test finished. 

Next, she used a strobe light that strobed at different speeds for a few minutes with breaks in between. My eyes were to stay closed, thankfully. Even in the movies, like "The Incredibles", this kind of lighting is not my favorite, but is doable. 

The final part of the test is hyperventilating. For three minutes, I was to breathe very deeply. That's a little harder than just sitting there, but I kept thinking, "I've been exercising; I can do this!" She told me, "you're doing great. One more minute!" At that point I knew I could finish, though I did feel fizzy, not dizzy. 

The last part is peeling and unwinding everything back off and then, bless her heart, she gently scrubbed off all the paste with nice, warm water. We giggled about how getting your hair washed is always the best part of a hair cut, and then she really laughed when I told her I appreciated that she didn't just use Mom Spit to clean me up, though I guaranteed it would work! She said she was pretty sure that would violate a whole lot of protocol, but also agreed that it would be effective.

Then she towel dried my hair in a rubby-rubby style that reminded me of how Grandmama used to do it when I was small enough to have that done! I felt like a fluffy baby chick when she was finished with me, haha! She walked us back out and wished us well and that was that! 

Overall, nothing to it. I'd go back. ;) 

 

Not a sympathy pitch, I swear!

 I had the most Monday-est Monday I can ever recall having yesterday. What was to be a normal, run of the mill checkup with my oncologist turned into a day of much more excitement that I had anticipated.

The short version is that everything is fine. My blood counts were all "perfect." Nothing to see here, folks, move along.

The unabridged version is a bit more graphic involving bodily fluids and sharp, pointy objects. You may choose to stop reading here and rest assured that I'm fine. (*cough* Hinrew, ahem.)

Still curious? As they say on the Knight Bus in Harry Potter, "it's gonna be a bumpy ride!"

I drove myself to my doctor's office and sat down to have my blood drawn. I knew this was coming; they do this first so they can run the numbers so that the doc will have them to go over with you before you leave. I'd already drank at least 32 ounces of water and a mug and a half of tea before I arrived for my 10:30 appointment. I'd also had a lot of water the night before as I'd ridden my bike for about 15 minutes and drank a good bit of water before bed. 

Well, the nurse tried to stick me the first time and said my vein blew. It happens. I know this. (When I was delivering Damon they tried at least 4 and maybe 5 different places to get an IV going. It may have been more. I lost count as I was a little distracted by contractions.)  She apologized and tried again. She got it that time and got the blood she needed. However, sometime during that draw, I told her I was getting a little sparkly and was going to put my head back against the wall. I did that and apparently passed right out anyway. I remember dreaming vividly and then woke up with one of the guys who works there propping my feet up against his legs and my nurse was holding my hand. I may have even wet myself at this point. Either way, I passed out again and this time I for sure peed my pants AND vomited AND the nurse told me when I woke up that I had also seized. This has never happened to me before. I somehow managed to not swallow or vomit my gum, which was a lifesaver afterwards. Yech. They said I was out 15-20 seconds and that I was alert as soon as I came to. I do remember dreaming again the second time, as well. 

I begin, naturally, with apologizing. The nurses are so darling. They brought me fresh pants and helped me change and kept their eagles' eyes on me while I waited for poor Dada to come collect me and my things and take me to the hospital for further evaluation, leaving one car behind. I cannot state enough how much I despise making more work for people, and the fact that they had to mop and change and all that drives me crazy, even though my nurse said her second pair of pants for the day was much more comfy than her first. I know it's an occupational hazard and that it won't be the first or last time they have to experience it, but goodness, I still hate that they had to go through it. Guess everyone needs a little excitement on a Monday, right? Ugh. Insert many, many eye rolls here.

So off to the hospital I go with my knight in shining armor. We get all checked in, I pee in a cup, I tell my story and he fills in details and then they want to get more blood and an IV in for fluids. The sweet nurse examines my arm for a few minutes and decides to attempt a stick in the back of my left hand. That vein blew. Rather than stick me again, she asks around for who on duty knows how to do an ultrasound IV, which was new to me. Lo and behold a guy who spent 8 years in the Marines comes in with his cart and listens to my story and confidently informs me that he'll find a "big, honkin' vein" and go from there. I tell him that they're not cooperating well today and he says we'll make it behave. So he scrolls his ultrasound around and decides on the inner side of my left bicep. I thought it would hurt more, so I asked, "is it in already?" and he sounded a little less confident when he answered, "not quite yet." It did hurt a little more but he did get it in and then he taped the bejeezus out of it so it wouldn't go anywhere. During the sticking and for a few minutes afterward, my heart rate plummeted to 39. Dada said I was in the red there for awhile. My sweet nurse came back in and said, "I figured by the numbers he was trying to stick you. Poor thing, you really don't like getting poked, do you?" She tilted my bed so that my head was lower than my feet for awhile. They're all so good at this game. 

They got their blood and a bag of fluids going. It's been awhile since chemo, so I'd forgotten how cold you can get when room temperature or chilled bags of fluid are entering you. I was shivering and sweet Dada asked for a blanket for me. I had an EKG where they stick 10 stickers all over you and the plugs go to the stickers and then, in a blink of an eye, it's over and she's unplugging me and unstickerizing me as I tell her that Damon likes to slyly sneak stickers from bananas onto my back as he hugs me.

They also wanted a chest Xray and a head CT so a radiology tech wheeled me through the maze of halls as we chatted about does she get her 10,000 recommended steps and she says most days, but it depends on the day. I sadly informed her that I probably wouldn't be getting mine that day.

Everything looked good there, so back to my ER room and they did one of those blood pressure tests where you're laying down, then sitting, then standing, and all those numbers corresponded within where they should be. 

The doctor came in and listened to my story, especially my concern that while I've passed out because of needles before, I'd never peed or vomited or seized. He reassured me that any of those things can happen when someone is unconscious, including defectating, which I'm thanking my lucky stars was something I can leave out of the mix, and he says that it might not have been a seizure, per say. He wanted me to schedule an EEG just to make sure epilepsy can be ruled out. Great. Another first for me. And a follow up appointment with a neurologist. Yay, yet another first! He said that all the tests looked good and showed no areas of concern and suggested that maybe it was just low volume of my blood and he told me to hydrate. That part still doesn't make sense to me as I specifically drank extra ahead of time knowing I'd be getting stuck. Oh well.

This afternoon is my follow up appointment with my family doctor who was kept in the loop and next Monday I meet with the neurologist. 

So, the point of all that is to tell you two things: one, I am fine, and two, if you ever feel like you're having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day like Alexander, ask yourself if you've peed yourself and vomited and played pincushion all in the same morning. I'm thinking of changing all my social media account user names to Not I, Cacti! #NotICacti has a nice ring to it.

I'm fortunate that my mental health is at a place where I could come home, have a good cry in the shower as I peeled off all the bandaids from the sticks, and realize that yes, while it certainly ranked up there as the most craptastic day I've had in a very long time, it was just a day and they'll look better going forward. I had my man by my side, excellent and caring medical professionals all day long, the kids here at home were already in their groove of online learning so (at least theoretically) they didn't need me every minute, and all results were positive. Overall, blessed beyond measure. So I had to wash a load of clothes- that happens just about every day anyway. 

The biggest inconvenience, and it is just that, is that I'm not supposed to drive until after the EEG just so they're sure I'm not epileptic. That makes things a little more difficult but also isn't earth shattering or long lasting. Another inconvenience will be that I have three extra appointments versus the one I'd have had yesterday if everything had gone as expected. I should have remembered- it's 2020; why would anything go as expected? I'm winking, you just can't see me.

The perk of seeing my doc today is that I can hopefully also get my flu shot, haha! Win! Always a silver lining.