Biopsies suck.
So, I had my biopsy today. I actually got up the guts to call my parents to ask their help so I could pay for said biopsy, so they paid for it. Except it ended up costing way less than they originally said, when they turned me away for my first biopsy attempt.
Anyway, I really expected myself to be more tough. I expected it to be less painful, or more tolerantly painful, and I didn't expect to be bothered all that much by it.
Boy was I wrong.
Halfway through I just wanted the stupid thing out. I just wanted it it out. Like, "GET THIS STUPID THING OUT OF ME I AM DONE." It was incredibly unnerving. And then, of course, it felt worse than I was expecting, I bled more than I expected, and the pain endured for a much larger part of the day than I was expecting. PLUS I sat down, hard, on the floor tonight when playing with Rosie and it still felt like I had stabby sandpaper up there. That was painful.
And then there was the absolutely and completely unexpected part of it which was my emotional reaction to the whole thing. Charity was going to go with me the first time I was going to get the biopsy, well she did, but I got sent away because I wasn't expecting the charge and I had to pay up front. When she first offered to go with me, or rather, told me she would go with me to this appointment, it took me by surprise. I felt like it would be awkward, like I didn't need someone there, like it was unnecessary, like it was no big deal. But then, with the idea in my head that I would have had someone with me, and the unexpected feeling I had the first time, of not being alone... made me feel alone without her.
I felt like maybe I'd have been tougher if I hadn't been alone. It kind of reminded me of that alone feeling after my parents kicked me out, when I had my last HCC concert without a single person in the audience for me, or that alone feeling I had when I moved from Andrew's place to my single-room all by myself without any help.
So I was there, bleeding and in pain, with all the worst case scenarios running through my head, and I was so unexpectedly not-so-tough and all alone.
And I went to work. For a good chunk of the day I felt like I was just going to burst into tears. I finally told Justin what was going on and I asked if I might be able to go home early. He said yes, but I didn't end up going home early. I was okay by the end of the day. I took a fuck ton of ibuprofen for the pain and cramping and some sam-e to ward off the sadness.
The doctor gave me a pantyliner, but it didn't stop from ruining one of my favorite pairs of panties. So there's that, too.
I really hope I don't have cancer.
Anyway, I really expected myself to be more tough. I expected it to be less painful, or more tolerantly painful, and I didn't expect to be bothered all that much by it.
Boy was I wrong.
Halfway through I just wanted the stupid thing out. I just wanted it it out. Like, "GET THIS STUPID THING OUT OF ME I AM DONE." It was incredibly unnerving. And then, of course, it felt worse than I was expecting, I bled more than I expected, and the pain endured for a much larger part of the day than I was expecting. PLUS I sat down, hard, on the floor tonight when playing with Rosie and it still felt like I had stabby sandpaper up there. That was painful.
And then there was the absolutely and completely unexpected part of it which was my emotional reaction to the whole thing. Charity was going to go with me the first time I was going to get the biopsy, well she did, but I got sent away because I wasn't expecting the charge and I had to pay up front. When she first offered to go with me, or rather, told me she would go with me to this appointment, it took me by surprise. I felt like it would be awkward, like I didn't need someone there, like it was unnecessary, like it was no big deal. But then, with the idea in my head that I would have had someone with me, and the unexpected feeling I had the first time, of not being alone... made me feel alone without her.
I felt like maybe I'd have been tougher if I hadn't been alone. It kind of reminded me of that alone feeling after my parents kicked me out, when I had my last HCC concert without a single person in the audience for me, or that alone feeling I had when I moved from Andrew's place to my single-room all by myself without any help.
So I was there, bleeding and in pain, with all the worst case scenarios running through my head, and I was so unexpectedly not-so-tough and all alone.
And I went to work. For a good chunk of the day I felt like I was just going to burst into tears. I finally told Justin what was going on and I asked if I might be able to go home early. He said yes, but I didn't end up going home early. I was okay by the end of the day. I took a fuck ton of ibuprofen for the pain and cramping and some sam-e to ward off the sadness.
The doctor gave me a pantyliner, but it didn't stop from ruining one of my favorite pairs of panties. So there's that, too.
I really hope I don't have cancer.