Not Without a Fight. . . Part 4

As I lay on the gurney, in this semi dark room, half dressed, with a sonogram tech, a Dr. I have never seen before and the tech's little chotskies, I hear nothing.  The tech has a red flower in a small blue vase, a picture framed of her and her niece, a stuffed gorilla, a pink water bottle and a mini fan with a purple base that was battery operated.  My world was spinning but I knew where everything was in that room, what it looked like and the room smelled like.

I am told to get dressed and that they will have to schedule the next step.  I said "ok . . .ok." 

Once dressed, I am ushered to the financial woman who is telling me the 80/20 split, deductible owed and so on.  She says they can see you in 10 days.  How did I want to pay? 

It was there that I lost it.  I told her I cannot do this in 10 days.  I need to pick my child up from school in 45 minutes.  That I had a busy schedule there was soccer practice, birthdays, Halloween, football - that we have Thanksgiving plans - I did not have time to wait for 10 days.  She says she will do what she can. 

She found space on the schedule and I was to be seen within the hour, funny how a little break down can move your appointment up 10 days!  The financial lady asks if I want to sit back in the lobby with the tiny wrap women or would I like to be by myself in a private office.  I go private.

I gather myself, after shedding some tears.  I have to get someone to pick up Jake from 11:45am carpool. My mother is at work.  My MIL is traveling.  My sister was out of town and my husband was involved in a settlement negotiation.  He is my only option; I will not share this with anyone until I know more.  So, I am centered as best I can be, and place my call. 

I call on our home line, he was on his cell.  I could hear the conference call going on; when he whispers "Hey is everything ok?  I am still on the call."  He hears me whimper and I hear his negotiation call go dead.  I was trying to put on a brave face, to protect him from my sadness and frightening news.   He asks several time with increased panic "what is wrong", "are you ok"; I have a hard time answering him.  I do my best to tell him in a calm voice I am scheduled for a sonogram guided needle biopsy within the hour.  He asks where I am at, I tell him not to come.  "Someone has to take care of Jake."  I finally convince him he can do no good at the hospital with me, he cannot even get back to where I am . . .alone . . . sad . . . and frightened.

He starts researching what I just told him.  He calls on a client who is a surgeon.  He learns the sonogram guided needle biopsy is routine.  Well, routine for this, not routine for me!  He calls me back - he is armed with information.  He is feeling more in control.  He wants me to know this is standard.  He walks me through the steps.  We both operated better if well informed.  I just hadn't thought to ask any questions.

The nurse calls me back again.  Her face has changed; her demeanor is more calm and serious.  I am quiet as a church mouse, and that is extremely out of character.  Again, I was on the gurney, again with the Dr. from earlier.  I sign whatever they put in front of me. I am positioned for the biopsy, lay here, move up, bend your right arm, and put it behind your head.  I am told to look away and think of something pleasant.  Pleasant . . . was 3 days ago when I didn't know I would have to be here.

Needle inserted, clip clip clip, needle out.

Continued tomorrow . . .