Here is the promised post about my biopsy fainting spell.
I had my biopsy on Friday 2/28. It was an ultrasound guided biopsy, I knew the basics of what was going to happen. An incision is made, probe goes in sucks out some tissue to test, and a marker is left behind to let any future radiologists know that the lump, mass, whatever was checked. Then they use ice and pressure to stop bleeding. All of this is done with a nice dose of local anesthesia so there is no pain.
I’ve had two kids so this should be no problem, right?
That would have been true if I had not had to go through the “informed consent” or if Matt had been with me for the informed consent. When they took me in Matt was left in the waiting room with the assurance that they would “take great care of me”, I wasn’t worried because I knew what to expect. We went through the changing of the clothes, an ultrasound to make sure everything was still in the same place, and then it’s time to get this show on the road. I meet the Doctor that will be performing the biopsy, she is very nice, reassuring, and calming.
I’m going to pause here to mention that I am somewhat squeamish, not so much when procedures are happening to me but when I hear people talking about procedures. There are a couple of others in my family, that will remain nameless, that also have a squeam weakness. This was more of an issue when I was younger, as an adult I haven’t really had any problems, so to speak. I’ve had two kids, two lipomas (little fatty polypy things) removed; I’ve bandaged my kids cuts and scrapes, and bandaged my own cuts. I did not think that I would have a problem with this procedure.
So the Doctor began talking to me about how I was, what the procedure is, how long it will take, and so on. Then she began talking about the very specific details of the procedure, let’s call them graphic details of the procedure. I was doing fairly well through the first two thirds but as she began talking about the final steps of the procedure I felt the need for a little more air, and things began to get fuzzy. I’m told that I was nodding away, as if in agreement or understanding, as I began to faint. The next thing I know I’m laying flat on my back (on the bed that I had been sitting on) with my knees bent. This was not a “Oh I feel dizzy let me get my head back” kind of fainting. This was a “What the heck just happened? Did I just hear music?” kind of fainting. I actually think I did hear music, not the “go into the light” angel music that we hear about in movies but just a chord or two of more “regular” music.
At that point the Doctor was not as calm, she kept asking if I was sure I didn’t want to do the procedure at another time with some sedation, etc. I, of course, insisted that ‘no this will be fine. I want to get it over with. Please don’t go into any more detail about the procedure.’ and ‘can I see my husband?’.
Matt came back and after a moment of panic realized that I was OK. He was able to stick around through the rest of the informed consent (which was finished with fewer details) and then left for the actual procedure. The ultrasound tech, Doctor, and nurse (that joined us after I fainted) were all great and the rest of the biopsy went with no problem. The Doctor was concerned enough to give me her cell phone number and ask that I call or text her the next day to let her know that I was feeling alright.
So the moral of this experience is that Matt will be in the room when informed consent is given so that I can tune out if needed. If anyone knows of a way to desensitize oneself to this squeamish passing out thing please let me know!! I’m guessing the surgeries and treatment that lie ahead will probably help.
I hope you were able to laugh with us!
Love, hope, and laughter to you all!