2/15/2006

Oh, the places you will go!

There is a side effect of pregnancy that had never occurred to me before this week. When you are pregnant, for some odd reason you cannot be given powerful drugs to make you feel better. IF drugs aside, I am generally not the type to take a medication for every ailment. Ever since the 2-year numb snatch debacle of my early 20s thanks to some potent anti-depressants, I'm a bit wary of medicine, even if its primary goal is to make the bad stuff go away.

This enlightenment has happened thanks to a nasty infected cyst that appeared on my back about a month ago. I made regular GP appointments to sort it out, as the beast soon became inflamed, grew to about 6cm in diameter, and prevented me from moving in certain ways or laying flat on my back. Two week-long courses of antibiotics later, and the cyst remained angry and painful. I went to the GP again on Monday, hoping they would lance the fucker/burn it off/stab it with a butter knife, or undertake any measures possible to remove it. The GP lifted my shirt, recoiled in horror, then demanded that I have something done about it that very day. Thinking that they would drain it there in then, I felt much relief. That is, until he said, "Yeah...that's a bit beyond this office's remit. I'm going to call the hospital, and you'll need to go right to their A&E (Accident and Emergency, in Yankspeak, ER)."

Phone calls were made, letters scribbled in the illegible scratch that doctors are particularly fond of, and I headed to the A&E. After much waiting in a number of different rooms and being prodded by a handful of doctors and nurses at varying intervals , I was given a bed in the Surgical Ward about 6 hours after my arrival. At this point, I was thinking that this shit was getting a bit serious. Why would I need a bed if they were just going to drain it? Prior to all the waiting, I anticipated being back at my desk at work by 3pm. Oh, you silly, silly, stupid girl.

The main talks given to me by the people in the know ranged from draining it, which wouldn't require any anesthetic, to excising it under a general. I was with them for all of the options until the fateful words were uttered regarding the general - May increase risk of miscarriage. I explained to the main surgeon, Dr Asshead, that I wasn't keen on anything that put Enid at risk. It's a sensitive topic for any woman to ponder, let alone an IFer who has just finally released a massive exhale of relief at emerging seemingly unscathed from the perilous first trimester. The last thing I wanted was to leap back into that zone, which Dr Asshead did not appear to comprehend. Dr Asshead, in fact, was far too casual about the whole miscarriage issue, repeating often that it was just a "small risk". I calmly told Dr Asshead that though I understood this, it wasn't good enough. After Dr Asshead left in a huff at my rebuking of his general anesthetic idea, I cried for 45 minutes at the thought that this decision even had to be made. The Dude had to keep handing me tissues while the old crone in the bed opposite mine stared at me, deciding that was the time to start having a morbid fascination with my misery.

After even more waiting, Dr Asshead came back to say that he could try and do the procedure under a local, but he might not be able to get the entire cyst removed. He pushed again for the general, I said my piece again, there was awkward silence, and then he said in a huff, "Fine. Just sign the consent form for the local. I will warn you though, as we're going to attempt to excise it and we typically do that under a general, it will be very painful." I was wheeled into the operating theatre, where there was a team of about 12 people waiting. I think the last thing a scared person needs to see before being operated on is a group that large for something you thought was not supposed to be a big deal.

Dr Asshead told me to prepare for a small prick while he injected the local, and no, despite wanting to I didn't make any jibes about how I hear that all the time. He said the sensation was akin to being stung by a small bee. For a fleeting moment I thought that yes, it was sort of like a small bee sting. That was soon followed by the most excruciating, swear-inducing pain I have ever felt. Rather than a cute little honeybee with one stinger, my bee had suddenly morphed into a Great Dane-sized killer bee with 100 stingers, climbing into my infected cyst and having an epileptic fit. I stared at the woman whose job it was to pat my hair and tell me how brave I was being, though I desperately wanted to punch her in her cute pixie head and call her a stupid, elfin motherfucker for not warning me that hey...this shit is going to hurt like hell.

The agony continued to the point that I felt as if I was going to throw up. I could feel Asshead carving into the cyst, squeezing it, then carving again. I could feel the scalpel scraping under my skin and coming a bit too close for comfort to my spine. My entire body was tensed as much as it could be, and through my gritted teeth I was trying to continue the conversation Pixie Head and her cohorts were trying to have to keep my mind off things. I have always viewed myself as having quite a high tolerance of pain, but now I think that either this was the ultimate test, or I am just a big pansy after all.

After a few reassurances that it was almost done, the only thought I could muster aside from wishing death on everyone around me was that I hoped that in life I am not confronted with many things as painful as that procedure. Childbirth was of course what came to mind immediately, and I thought that if it is more painful than having a huge cyst excised from your back under a local anesthetic, the kid is just going to have to deal with living in the placenta forever.

Once I was back in my bed, I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't in too much pain, but the residual emotion of having been in so much pain was raw. The Dude was freaking out, thinking that it must have all gone horribly wrong and after a half an hour of sobbing and snotting, I was able to tell him that there was no way I could ever accurately put into words how agonising the procedure was. I tried not to think how effortless it all would have been had I been sedated, though I know that is a decision I couldn't have made without living in fear even more than I already am. One of the nurses, clearly a comedian, told me that she could give me some painkillers post-op. I perked up a bit at the thought of being able to move without wincing, when she looked at my chart and said, "Oops. Haha. You're pregnant. Nevermind." Haha indeed.

I'm back at home now, having spent a total of 24 hours in the hospital. I have to get my dressings changed by a nurse once a day, and it seems I now have a fairly deep cavity in my back that I hope will heal normally. Despite trying to convey the gravity of the situation to my family and dear husband, I am now subject to jokes about storing change in the cavity, and receiving emails entitled "This one's for the cavity".

To ease our minds, we whipped out the doppler last night to ensure that Enid was not adversely affected by her host's recent intense emotional and physical pain. She responded with a resounding, powerful heartbeat right away, reassuring us for at least another day that we're still in this. Once I was confident that Enid was still around, I told The Dude that this kid better be a fucking dream, making me go without sedation when getting a hole carved into my back. It almost makes me want to take pictures of the carnage, so that if Enid is ever an asshole, I can wave cavity pictures at him/her and shout about how my love for him/her surmounted my desire to be in as little pain as possible. Now that's parenting.

24 comments:

EJW said...

That sounds like a terrible experience for both of you. Also, what kind of nurse says "Ooops, ha ha, no pain meds for you!"?

Anonymous said...

DO take a picture. Put it on the front cover of Enid's baby book.

As I said before, you're a saint. Enjoy your sainthood. Go buy a halo or something.

Fertility Faux Pas said...

Holy shit, I can't believe you had to go through that. Kudos to you for not punching out the cute pixi-headed nurse too. Quite an impressive show of restraint if you ask me.

Anonymous said...

Motherfucker that sounds absolutely horrible!! You are a rockstar for making it through that ordeal without committing homicide. Sort of reminds of the root canal scene from A Million Little Pieces... except, you know, it actually happened.

DD said...

I'm having some serious sympathy pains here. Didn't they even give you a local? That's just fucking barbaric!

Portlairge said...

That doesn't sound like much of a local. That bastard doctor was taking out his frustration that you wouldn't do it his way. You are so brave Saint Prufrock. Childbirth will be a breeze for you.

Anonymous said...

Owie owie owie.

And also, "Damn." I'm going be wincing in my sleep.

Anonymous said...

OMG. I just threw up a little in my mouth...So sorry you had to endure that. I'm sure it will just heal over into a small indentation. Right??? Glad Enid is doing well.

Linda said...

You are fierce. Fierce! And hot! Letting them carve a hole in your back with only a local? Makes you sound like some hard Army type; like if they sent you out into the wild with only a bowie knife and a q-tip you'd build them a shopping mall.

Yes, do take pictures. And post them. I want to see.

As for guilt-tripping Enid...isn't that what motherhood is all about?

Anonymous said...

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

You are either completely insane... or... or... a saint. Maybe both. Holy CRAP, woman!

And yah... picture! Definitely a picture...

persephone said...

I'm going to have nightmares about this tonight. Pru, you're amazing, I don't think I would have made it through without begging for them to put me out. Or at least give me an epidural.

I hate to think we're going to be this kind of mother, but doesn't it seem like your future kid has no right to EVER give you a moment's trouble after what you put yourself through?

Feel free to borrow my husband's line: As soon as Enid's born, s/he's grounded.

Nico said...

Holy shit Pru! What a horrible experience. At least you'll be able to use it when Enid is a teenager - "all the pain I went through to make sure you were okay...". On second thought, that probably wouldn't go over too well.

Anyway, I am so impressed that you made it through without killing anyone in the near vicinity. I hope your recovery goes well!!!

Anonymous said...

Ewwwww. That sucks. Big time. But trust me, childbirth will be worse.

Oh, and sweetie? Enid is not living in your placenta. S/he is living in your UT-ER-US. :-)

Anonymous said...

Holy geez and wow. I agree, a picture is definitely in order, if you can get the Dude to face the carnage. I'm sorry about all the pain, it sounds truly awful.

Kellie said...

THIS is why I get pissed at GP's that treat abscesses with antibiotics. If this had been taken care of properly when it was SMALL, it would not have been so bad.

Having said that, I believe he could have given you a better local than what he did.

And pain medication is not verboten during pregnancy.

It will actually heal up and look amazingly better than you think it will.

GOod luck and hope you are feeling better soon

Anonymous said...

I think that's a great approach to parenting. That's going to be one well-adjusted kid.

Jen said...

Ai-ai-ai! That sounds hideous. You are one devoted mama. Lucky Enid!

Anonymous said...

OMG, woman, you are a saint! An effin' SAINT!!

Seriously, you deserve the Mom Medal for going through that in order not to jeopardize your precious cargo even a little bit. I am absolutely serious. We salute you!

And *do* take the pic! And don't be afraid to wave it around in front of Enid and friends when she is about 14. Research shows that kids that are not sufficiently embarrassed on a regular basis grow up to be just like the doc that carved your cyst out without sufficient local anesthetic!

Twisted Ovaries said...

Taking a picture and putting it on the front of the baby album has you ready to go as a future Catholic Mom (said from one who was raised Catholic). Nothing says guilt trip like a cavity in the back. Nothing!

And I'm sorry you had to go through that, I really honestly am, but when I read: "despite wanting to I didn't make any jibes about how I hear that all the time"? Yeah. I smiled and thought that I adored you.

OvaGirl said...

You completely rock. That sounds absolutely fucking awful.

Eggs Akimbo said...

I'm glad you are ok. Sounds bloody horrendous. I wish I had got a doppler now, however I am getting stronger kicks so my havourite game is 'prod the baby (gently of course!)' and it prods back! Try it when you get near 30 weeks. It is the best!

WonderMama said...

Yeeee-OUCH!
Good LARD, does that sound incredibly fucking horrific.
I'm glad you survived it. Enid had better be appropriately appreciative!

Sabrina said...

Ye Gads... I've been there. Mine was a 7mm Pylonidal cyst and it was... um... on my tailbone. That makes it sound like it's on your lower back, so I say it that way... Now you find your tailbone and you realize that that is a bit into arse crack region. I was just barely pregnant ( positive HPT 4 days before) and I also refused the general.. and my arse hurt a lot. Big cut, lots of exclamnations, the calling in of collegues to view ( and boy isn't that nice when the 22 year old med students all pile in the room to have the doc spread my rear cheeks to have a peek at the hole they created. )much drainage, cotton packs in the hole ( the one they made...) that needed changed every day for 4 days.
So yeah, you have my deepest sympathies. Cysts SUCK! and no one completely realizes how much those MF's hurt to deal with!!
Thus begins the long, long, LONG list of things you do for your children. Good Mama.

Anonymous said...

Yowch!