The pulmonogist came over and hugged me. She took my O2 sats and they were low. I told her she could do an ABG (aterial blood gas, where they take blood from an artery in your wrist) to measure the O2 in your blood. It gives a definate answer as opposed to the oximetry meter on your finger. She took me into a separate room once I had calmed down. The first thing i saw when i stepped into that room was a treadmill. Fuck, I thought, she's gonna make me walk on it, isn't she? But she sat me down instead and got a needle out. She turned my right hand over and examined my wrist. "You've got small veins..." she pointed out. Thanx, i thought. As if i didn't know. Eventually she located an artery and in the needle went. I will tell you that it feels very different from getting a needle or IV in your vein. In your artery it's painful; you get a feeling in your gut like all the air in there has been sucked out of you. I felt sick. She moved the needled in and out, and in an out, and eventually i felt the syrynge pull back.
She sucked my artery shut. No blood came out. She kept trying but finally I told her to take it out and try somewhere else. I told her my elbows were good spots, and sure enough she got it and got blood. When they actually take blood from your artery, the location and surrounding area hurts for a good couple of days. It was heavy and sore for about 4 days after, but i had no bruise. When she stuck the bandaid on me she left me to myself and it all hit me. I began crying again and she found me and hugged me. I told her I had to go for a full body x-ray after and needed to go. She walked me to the elevators, gave me instructions on where to go, and told me to come back up and talk if i was still upset. She was really sweet and I appreciate the comfort she gave to me more than she'll ever know.
Needless to say I forgot the directions she gave me and I got lost. When i found the place the x-rays went great. The only struggle was not crying during them b/c you have to stay perfectly still. I ended up losing my hair clip though in the x-ray room. It was cute. Oh well.
Then it came time to go for Gamma. As soon as I saw my nurses I cried again. I cried really hard. I told Mary I'd elaborate but I had to go to the bathroom first. I had to throw up. So i told all my nurses I just found out I need a lung tx. I needed to talk to my doc first to see what she said. She called and said that she didn't think it was urgent, but to schedule an appt in her office the next time I go for Gamma, as she had not yet had a chance to look at my numbers. She said the pulmonolgist had no right telling me i needed a tx since she's not a doctor, and that she most likely freaked out when she saw all my stuff. I felt a bit better, but I still had the task of telling my parents.
I called my mum and ended up telling her on the phone...I don't remember much of the convo b/c I tried to be brave. I cried a bit on the drive home but not much, since I left all my tears at the hospital. I ended up staying longer b/c my doc didn't want me driving when I was upset. The nurses told her I was inconsolable. So i got home and told my sister. She was shocked. I asked her if she was going to cry. She said maybe later, when it all hits her. I told her that was ok. Eventually we had a small cry together....and then my dad got home.
Oh dad. God bless you so much. You're just like me in the fact that you try so hard to be brave and it's incredibly obvious that you're upset. Even though this has already happened, writing it feels fresh and i'm crying as I write it. "Breathe" by Anna Nalick is even playing on my iPod (it's on random so i didn't select it either). So home came dad. He called before asking about supper and also to ask how my appt went. All i mustered to say was, "Not well..." So in he comes and I told him play by play how it went. You can probably guess how it went. He wanted to know the implications of getting a tx and all that. I couldn't answer honestly as i didn't know myself. I just remember crying and putting my head on the counter and saying, "I'm sorry....I'm so sorry...I fucked up." My dad came around the counter and hugged me and we just at the two of us and cried and cried and cried. It was so sad.
Mum came home and we told her. She's good at hiding when she's sad. She tries to be brave for everyone. The night wore on and i went to bed...but soon i came down crying hysterically b/c i still didn't understand how this had happened...how i missed every sign along the way and just ignored it. I hated myself. I felt like I was going to die and that i had let it happen. My parents were upset, but mainly upset that I hadn't called them to come to the hosp. I said I couldn't scare them that way, when i didn't know 100%. I remember my dad said, "still...you should have called....we should have been there for you...you didn't need to go through that alone..."
Fast forward 4 weeks to my doc appt. We talked about usual things, and then lung tx. My dad came with me. By this time my parents had had enough time to accept the fact that I needed one, though my dad still got upset. My doctor confirmed that I did need one, and that we would discuss evaluation for it around the fall. She also told me i had waited long enough to go on O2 and that i needed to begin it at night now. I didn't have any heart probs, and if i layed off the O2 any longer i'd put myself at risk for it.
Overall that appt was amazing. She was calm and there were no tears! Since then I guess you know we've accepted tx and it is not some horrible thing. A referral for tx assessment has been sent and now i have to wait for a reply. I read that it can take 3-4 weeks. So far...it's been 1, lol.
Anywho, that is a lot for today so I will let you go. HAVE A GREAT DAY! HARRY POTTER COMES OUT AT MIDNIGHT!!