Oh joy. For my holiday surprise, I’m getting my very own bronchoscopy! On the 29th. One that will include a lavage and a biopsy. Now is a good time, the doctor said, because I’m completely weaned off the prednisone. And because the cough continues, not notably better or worse, but still definitely there. If it clears up before the 29th, I’m off the hook; I’m not counting on that.
I can’t begin to tell you how (not) thrilled I am by this. I may have mentioned before that I have a Class A Godawful gag reflex. I also have a deep distrust of the sedatives commonly used for the procedure, since I actually woke up from them during a colonoscopy about 15 years ago. All the assurances about how the drugs will ensure I don’t remember anything? Screw that. I don’t want to be aware of anything. And if I am aware, the well-being of anyone within reach will be in grave danger.
And that’s just if they take a peek down the scope. Lavage means fluid in the lungs, and to me that sounds suspiciously like drowning. Or at least choking. And to that they will add their teeny tiny little biopsy.
Need I repeat that if I have the slightest awareness of these goings on, lives will be at stake?
Okay, end of subject. To the extent that I can put all of this out of my mind and keep it out, I’ll be a much happier person. Not gonna read about. Don’t want to hear how your bronchoscopy was a piece of cake. Didn’t need to hear the scheduler say people who have these all the time think nothing of it. Not gonna discuss it. Period.
Some people have a thing about doctors. Or shots. Or eye exams. I happen to have a thing about stuff in my throat and inadequate anesthesia.
I’d almost rather have another lumpectomy than do this …
Wake me when it’s over.
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