Today was my broncoscopy/lung lavage. Aside from my over-active Googling, I knew nothing about the procedure--the doctors called me on Wednesday and asked me to be there on Friday...so, I showed up.
I got all dolled up in the designer hospital gown, and climbed into the ultra-plush bed they provided for me. Two nurses came in, simultaneously asking questions, and poking me every which way from Thursday. The starting of my IV resulted in spilled blood--literally. I'm not sure what went wrong, but she had one heck of time getting my arm cleaned up. Following my IV, I received two shots...both in my "hips" (read: my butt). I claim to be so overly "down" with shots; I've had soooo many that they just do not phase me now. WRONG. I realized today that I will never be "down" with needles that go near my butt.
They wheeled me off not too long after that---Procedure time! Not quite. First things first--they needed to numb my throat. I had to go through this for the endoscopy I had the same day of my colonoscopy. The spray (so wonderfully named "Hurricane Spray") comes in a mini WD-40 bottle; straw and all. It's so utterly potent; within seconds I was fighting back tears. Not only does it taste awful, but it kicks in so quickly that I panic---the feeling of not being able to swallow at all is terrifying (regardless of whether or not the nurse says "that's a good thing!"). Following the spray-of-death, I was required to inhale a gel-like substance through my nose. For all of the people who snort drugs out there---I commend you. Getting something up my nose, rather than out, proved to be an insanely difficult task; how drug addicts to this on a daily basis, is beyond me. Once my nose was successfully numbed (this was tested with a long Qtip pleasantly shoved up my nose, and down my throat), the rest...as they say...was history.
As far as I know, they took some lung tissue samples. Thank god for the drugs, because I don't remember a thing. I remember returning to the room, with an aching throat and an awful cough--only to be told I was not allowed anything to eat or drink for two hours. Super.
During my other procedures, the doctors have always gone and filled my family in on how things went. This time, however, no one filled them in. Eventually, my dad was able to go and speak with my Polmonolgist---but, didn't return with much information. The phrase "smoking disease" was mentioned apparently...but for what reason, or under what context, I don't know. But--what I do know is "smoking disease," while vague, scares the living crap out of me. Is it possible that I did this all to myself? I smoked for two years (on and off) in college. I had stopped smoking for over a year, and had only recently (this past July) picked it back up. I have since stopped---15 whole days!---but, really? A smoking-related disease? Oh.shit.
We (D and I) grabbed some lunch at my favorite breakfast-food restaurant. I couldn't make it through half of my meal. Every two seconds, I had tears running down my face--I'm confused, and sad. I wish I knew what was wrong with me. The thought that my own smoking could have played a role in this, is heartbreaking. The potential for this test, just like every test prior to, to result in no answers only perpetuates my frustrations. I just cannot live the rest of my life feeling like I feel right now. I just can't.
All of that said, I'm home and feeling like crap. I cannot stop coughing. My nose is stuffed up. And I'm feeling sorry for myself.
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