The Hospital: Part 2
Lying in my new room with my hot pink neck and bandage from my biopsy. Tired, but grateful.
As suspected, things were brighter in the morning. Despite the fact I only slept about 4 hours (so much tossing and turning in that Godforsaken hallway bed) and the lights were on at 6:15 AM. I went to the bathroom where I pitied myself because my face was still swollen.
I forgot to mention that because I was in the ER and then the hallway, somehow, there was no food for me for dinner the night before. WTF. Sure enough, that morning, there was also no food for me. The daytime nursing staff were wonderful though. Natasha and Lucy were my nurses. Instead of feeling like this weird humiliated hallway freak, I felt taken care of. Lucy found me some food. Natasha caught up on all the tests I was waiting for. Bloodwork, CT scan, more bloodwork and most importantly — biopsy. I had a biopsy scheduled for the following Wednesday, February 17, but like my doctor told me on the phone when she was sending me to the hospital “you need a biopsy now, not next week.” She also secured me an actual room! It would be ready later that day.
My doctor and his team, today three women, came by at 10AM. They told me they weren’t sure I could get the biopsy before MONDAY. Which meant A) three more days in the hospital and B) three more days without medication for the swelling. NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOO! So I pleaded with my team “is there any way I could just go home if I can’t get the tests? I’m happy to be here if things are happening, but five full days just waiting here in the middle of a pandemic seems less fantastic.” They assured me they would do what they could to make it happen. Then, my doctor went over what him and the resident did yesterday. My likely diagnosis. Why I was swelling. That my lymph node was called virchow's node (I had seen this on Google at some point and wondered if that’s what Lumpy was). Since Juravinski is a teaching hospital, he asked if it was okay if the Junior Residents checked me out. So I said “can we wait until we get my room?” Natasha called out from across the hallway “your room won’t be ready for at least an hour.” So I said, “Okay, do what you gotta do.”
So, hallway medicine at its finest, they poked and prodded. As they jammed their hands into my armpit to feel around for swollen lymph nodes, their teacher explained exactly where to feel and how to dig right in there. He also asked me to send him the pictures I had been taking of my swollen face so he could show his students. I guess SVC Syndrome isn’t the most common and the way my lymphoma was presenting itself wasn’t the most common way to get a diagnosis. All excellent for teaching. All less than cool for me.
They tapped on my abdomen. They squished around in there to search for my spleen and my liver. Fun fact: did you know your spleen is a LYMPH NODE? Me neither. Also, mine was a smidge enlarged, as was my liver. All common with lymphoma. The Junior Residents could not have been sweeter. “Are you sure this is okay?” “I’m sorry, my hands are cold,” etc. “It’s totally okay, you’re learning, get in there.” I replied. A friend of mine works in healthcare, she recently completed her PhD and is widely responsible for all the fantastic tele-medicine, particularly tele-psychiatry, happening across Ontario. She gave a talk to 500 doctors mid-pandemic. Dressed from the top up in business attire and the bottom down in pyjamas. She always tells me the best places to get care is at university affiliated hospitals and health care centres. The doctors are at their best and there are many different minds looking at the same problem. My doctor’s office is a teaching practice. So is Juravinski. I’m so grateful to have this care in Hamilton. Another reason I don’t mind being poked and prodded in a hallway (too much) is because of the twins. Everything is easier than carrying and giving birth to twins. Also, once you give birth, your body is this radical vessel for humanity. Any shame or embarrassment I had about my body being viewed in a healthcare setting after the twins just disappeared. When you have 13 doctors and nurses in an OR room, a baby in your ribs while you push one out for 4 hours and when it’s all over your midwives show you your placentas and how gross and cool and amazing they are — everything else just disappears. So go ahead, three Junior Residents, prod me in a hallway, see if I care.
Shortly after my team left, someone from Hematology/Oncology came by. She was a Senior Resident and she was lovely. I haven’t crossed paths with her again yet, but I hope I do. She asked me a million questions about symptoms. Yes, yes, no, no, no, no, yes, no, no, no, no. I know now that all those questions were a part of staging for lymphoma and my many “no’s” would work in my favour. Shortly after that, Lucy came by “did they not bring you any lunch?” “Nope.” Lucy sighed and cursed the food staff for missing me again and went to find me some peanut-free lunch.
After lunch, I was wheeled to an ultrasound. The woman doing it was a million weeks pregnant. We talked about pregnancy and cancer and life and death. Then a porter came back and returned me to my hallway room. I highly recommend this part of the hospital experience. Having someone wheel you around in a bed is decadent. Truly. Especially when you’ve been taking care of your kids for almost one full pandemic year. Meanwhile, Natasha had been working on the surgeon who was to do my biopsy. Trying to make sure I could get it that day so I could go home Saturday and have some GD relief from feeling like hell. Around 1PM she called out to me “they’re going to do the biopsy today!” “YESSSSSS!!” I exclaimed.
A few hours later a new porter wheeled me to another section of the hospital. I was met by two nurses who did some bloodwork, asked me some questions and prepped me for the biopsy. Then off to the OR we went. The surgeon and his team was wonderful. A Promised Land still laid on my bed and he asked me if it was good. “Yeah, it’s great so far but I think it’s the wrong read for a hospital. I wish I’d brought something lighter.” Then he said something about the current president writing a book. I joked “someone else would have to write it for him.” The whole OR chuckled. It was me, the surgeon, the two nurses and another nurse — who happened to do my CT scan the day before.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” She said.
“Umm?”
“You were here the other day, you were wearing the purple outfit.”
“Oh yeah, I didn’t recognize you. And I’m still wearing the purple outfit” I said as I moved my blanket to show her my legs. “And that was just yesterday morning.”
“NO!” she exclaimed. We both agreed it felt like it had been several days since our CT Scan adventure.
Okay, back to the OR. So this biopsy I had been waiting three (four?) weeks to get was finally happening. They put on this gel that makes your body hot pink in that area. It was an ultrasound-guided biopsy, which apparently was why it had taken so long to get because it’s not done everywhere. The surgeon explained there would be six loud clicks. They were taking six samples out of Lumpy. They kept asking if I was okay. I just quietly did my yoga breathing and told them anything was easier than giving birth to twins. I also accidentally had laser eye surgery without any drugs six years before. My sister had told me they give you drugs, so I was pretty calm. Then I walked into the laser-in-eye room and realized, I had not been given any drugs.
“Um… I was told there would be drugs.”
“Oh, it’s too late for that. You could go back out to the waiting room but it’ll be another hour.”
”Okay, let’s do this.” And they gave me a stress ball to squeeze as I smelled burnt hair and everything went black.
Needless to say, this biopsy with its six clicks was small potatoes. When it was done, they showed me the cells they had taken. Fascinating. Modern medicine is truly incredible. When it was over, a nurse wheeled me to the hallway near two elderly men. One was 100! Then a porter came and wheeled me back to my hallway room.
Within an hour of returning from my ultrasound and my biopsy, I was wheeled into an actual room. With three actual walls and only one curtained wall. I got a new bed. A pillow and not just one, but THREE BLANKETS. It was like the Shangri-La (in comparison to the hallway). In comparison to the actual Shangri-La, it was a shit hole. But it was my shit hole and it was better than a hallway, so I was happy.