Monday, October 23, 2006

An act of kindness

Today I had a dramatic, very invasive medical procedure done at my local hospital. I say dramatic because I’m a Virgo and we tend to have a streak of hypochondria that runs though us. For others it might have only been considered on the semi-dramatic side. I do try to keep my medical drama in check and yet we all know how well I handled that Thallium Stress test a few months back.

The procedure I had done today required that it be done under general anesthesia in the outpatient surgery department. Of course when hearing I need to be knocked out two thoughts ran though my head. First, this must be some painful test since you need to be unconscious for it, and second, I might go to sleep and never wake up again. For a week prior I tortured most of you who read this blog with these dire thoughts and do appreciate how patient you all were, while probably thinking, “Susan, please shut up about this already!”

I think that the whole idea of no longer having a “significant other,” in my life waiting in the waiting room for me, is what freaked me out the most. Certainly my mother is a “significant other,” in my life and I am most grateful to have had her with me. Yet, it’s not the same as having someone with you, who is your partner in all senses of the word. I know that I’m whining and I can’t help it. My friend Joanne went through radiation therapy for breast cancer, without her “significant other,” the bastard left her three weeks into her treatment. I have no right to whine about this as I cannot imagine what that must have been like, and yet, I do it anyway. And, I think that Joanne understands my angst about this and forgives me for it.

I adore the two main doctors in my life and both are women. My primary care physician has been known to hug me good-bye, which is not something any doctor I’ve even had, has done…and it’s nice. My “other doctor,” is more reserved, professional and business like. They have two very different bedside manners, and yet I appreciate them both for their care of me.

Today, while lying in the OR waiting for the anesthesiologist to put me under for the cervical biopsy I needed to have done, trying to do some Zen breathing so as not to cry because I’m a baby…. and was terrified and very anxious, my very professional gynecologist came up beside me and held my hand while I faded off into oblivion. I wonder if she has any idea what that meant to me?

2 comments:

jbigboyd said...

our journey together in life is not over yet, this is why GOD put me next door to you for a short period of time, yet long term in the supportive sense. we women are survivors through and through. it is our family and friends that will always be there for us. the "dick end" has no conscience. that's why there are vibrators. so anytime you want to cry on my shoulders susan, i'm all ears. i will never forget that you were the only person who called me when you found out about the cancer... it's a two way street. and if you choose to write about me again, you wanna spell my name right???? hahahaha
love you... JoAnn

jbigboyd said...

our journey together in life is not over yet, this is why GOD put me next door to you for a short period of time, yet long term in the supportive sense. we women are survivors through and through. it is our family and friends that will always be there for us. the "dick end" has no conscience. that's why there are vibrators. so anytime you want to cry on my shoulders susan, i'm all ears. i will never forget that you were the only person who called me when you found out about the cancer... it's a two way street. and if you choose to write about me again, you wanna spell my name right???? hahahaha
love you... JoAnn