It is time for more tests. This time it is an MRI. My surgeon wants it before we move forward with “THE” surgery (the one where they cut my breast off). Dreadful!
This is the third time I have showed up for this MRI! The first time the tech didn’t know if the contrast dye they were going to use had iodine in it or not and I am allergic to iodine, so they called it off till they could check with the drug company that makes the dye. I came back the second time and the tech couldn’t get the IV started. He poked me four or five times until the nerves in my elbow ached and I had a huge bruise. He apologized and said it was late in the afternoon and there was no one else to try so I would have to come back. This time they sent me to the day surgery area to have a tech do the IV. He did a great job.
The MRI room is freezing. I can’t believe the machine – how humiliating. It has a skinny bed for me to lay face down on and slip my breasts into the two holes in the table. The tech yanks and pulls my breasts into place. My head is held in a rubber support and my ankles are supported. My knees are slightly bent. The IV is hooked up to a mechanical device that will push the “contrast dye” into my veins at the proper time.
The tech gives me some ear phones with some music to drown out the noise of the huge magnets as they rotate around me. What a sight I must be; my head in a rubber vice, my feet in a cradle; face down with my butt in the air and my breasts dangling below the table in this freezing air (ice fishing comes to mind…)! This is completely humiliating.
It takes 40 minutes! The dye is icy cold when it starts to flow into my veins…it’s full of heavy metals and makes me dizzy.
I am so glad when it’s over. I am dizzy and disoriented by the magnets and dye. Can’t wait to go home and sauna it off and sleep.
I am anxious to see what all these months of my rigid health care practices have done for my body. This is the telling moment, to find out if the cancer has shrunk up enough for surgery.
It’s funny. I have had a very peaceful feeling lately. I just know it is going to be OK. I no longer feel depressed and I actually feel calm.
I have been processing my feelings about this surgery. It has been a shocking thought at first, but I am getting more used to it and the docs assure me they will put me back together again afterward. I have had to let go of identity issues and realize that when I am done with the reconstructive part of all this – that it will still be my skin and my body. It is just so heart-breaking to part with my lovely breast (OK, a little saggy after 50-ish years). This is an unbelievable process. Seems barbaric to poison, cut and burn a person on purpose, all in the name of healing.These tools seem better suited for a bad gardener. I hope we get better at this in the future because I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to do this.