Last week I thought I was going to die. Well not quite, but I experienced the most barbaric procedure of my life, a procedure I thought would be a piece of proverbial cake. Only it wasn’t – not by a long shot.
Now approaching “the Golden Years,” my body introduces me to new and exciting (not) phenomena of which I shall not go into great detail. However, whenever I mention one of these new occurrences to one of a medical persuasion, I am relegated to undergo a series of tests, most of which are relatively benign, only some aren’t. Correction – one wasn’t.
Last week I had a transvaginal ultrasound – no biggie, and an endometrial biopsy. Before the biopsy, I was told I might be ‘uncomfortable’ and was advised to take a few pain killers two hours before. As I have a high tolerance for pain, I decided to forgo the pain killers and go cold turkey. Bad decision. I truly have never experienced such pain in my life– including childbirth and other assorted surgeries. I also reacted unlike I had for any of these events – loudly and physically. I was mortified.
After it was over, without a really ‘good’ tissue sample, so I was told, I crawled sheepishly down the corridor, wondering how many people had heard me and hoping no one had. I felt like a world class wimp despite being told many people reacted a lot worse than I, including some who passed out. I get that and I wish I had so.
I drove my sheepish self home and promptly got on the Internet to research others who had had this procedure and guess what I found? I was not alone – not by a long shot! So, I share these stories with you as both a warning and as encouragement to talk with your medical practitioners to request a nice tidy squirt of anesthesia in a hospital setting, an option I was told about AFTER my agonizing and quite humiliating experience.