Lymph Node Biopsy, with drugs and pickles :)

As I rolled over in my bed, my back instantly had a shooting pain like Zeus shooting a lightening bolt. I woke up instantly from the pain. 5:55am. Great. I still have 35 minutes until I have to be awake. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like gum sticks to your shoe. I was so parched. I knew I was allowed one sip of water to take my meds, so I decided to use it wisely. I got a perc and my other two morning meds and savored that one single sip like it was going to be my last. Frustrated because it was not even remotely enough, I knew that being in a little discomfort now, would override vomiting my brains out later, so I let it go.

I crawled back into bed and grabbed my phone. Figured I could find something to kill time with on there. Solitaire, Yahtzee, Euchre, OOH a text from crush.

"Good Luck Today :**:".

Those are the kinds of things that make waking up on a day like this a whole lot nicer. It was the perfect start to my day!

My mum walked in to see if I was awake and was shocked that I was.

"What are you doing up?"

I told her about my back and how I was a little anxious about what was ahead. She told me to get ready to go and I was like fine. I threw on my VS cropped sweats, a lulu top and my Lady Gaga zip up hoodie. I was like there's no point in a bra because I'll have to take it off anyway. Tuxx was snuggled on my bed, and I so would have rather just crawled under my *new* covers and hid with him. But, it was go time. I grabbed my book and purse and normally a water bottle, but was forced to continue being parched... so I walked. It was like walking the plank on a pirate ship... those slow dragging your feet steps, to your demise.

We got in the car and were off. It was one of those, I just want to talk about boys kind of days. So I did and it was great, because the car ride flew by. J, my mum's partner in crime, who came with us had some great guy advice.

"I would go with *, he seems like a genuinely good guy."

We went over the pros and cons and it was actually really fun to discuss it with someone who wasn't a chick.

"It's not even really like it matters right now, I'm currently not exactly in the dating pool."

In fact if I were to fully jump in, I'd probably drown. Of course when I was healthy, the pool was empty, but now that I'm sick again, its just been cleaned, refilled, the ph is perfect and its sunny with a chance of hotties, lots of them.

As we were driving to the hospital we got a call around 7:44am. (We had left the house at 7, and it takes about an hour to get there.) It was the booking lady from Interventional Radiology. (My moms phone goes through the blue tooth in her car so we could all hear.)

"Hi, this is L from I.R., we were just wondering where you were because Courtney is supposed to be on the table at 8 and you were supposed to be here at 7:30"

My mom extremely agitated said,

"I thought so, but we got a call last night after 6pm from K and she said that it had been moved to 8:30 and that we didn't need to be there until 8."

The lady got a little more agitated and was like

"Well we don't have a K in our department so I don't know who called you. We gave you your paperwork and it said 7:30. How long do you think you'll be?"

We told her we were getting there as fast as we could. Never a dull moment with us. My mum being in the medical field was exceptionally frustrated because we were just doing what we were told. How were we supposed to know that this rando person was calling us with misinformation, even after my mom questioned it to her. Later in pre op, the nurses told us not to worry because this isn't the first time this has happened so I felt a lot better. The rest of the car ride however, we boogied.

I got a little antsy by this call. Now I was just thinking to myself

"Great, they're going to be rushed and mess something up."

As if I wasn't already nervous. We took a new route which we loved, Thank you Dr. D2. When we got there my mum had me jump out and run to admissions to register. She and J valeted the car. I went in and explained the situation and was like

"LOOK, I'm kinda in a rush because there was a miscommunication, so I know you need me to sign the sheet, wait my turn and stuff, but they need me up there now."

She looked at me, with absolutely no expression in her face (obviously one of those people who LOVED their job) and said

"Sign the sheet, we'll call you when its your turn."

So I did. My mum came in and I explained. I had gotten even antsier after about 4 minutes of waiting, so I said

"I'm just going to go upstairs to the unit, you wait, and I'll let them know I'm here but that they're taking their sweet @$$ time down here."

It was go time. On my way out, there was this huge piano, I wanted to go belt out a round of heart and soul so badly, but the sign said I wasn't allowed. It was a good thing I was running late or anything could have happened.

I got to the floor and the girls were SO nice. It was different then the outpatient surgery unit I had been on for my EUA. I had my own private room, with a tv and a closet. It was nice that my mum could wait there instead of a generic waiting room with infomercials. I was fascinated that they left a love note on the toilet.

"Sanitized for your protection."

I was like well thank you for thinking of my tush!

My mum and J left admissions because they were still taking too long. I got undressed into the sexiest that hospital wear has to offer. After they put in my iv, I had a mini photo shoot. When I get nervous, I do whatever I can to take my mind off of it. Be funny, or at least try, talk, dance sing whatever.

The nurses went over a bunch of questions with me, since they had to register me. While they did that, I braided my hair to get it out of the way. I was getting antsy again.

We were almost ready to head to Interventional Radiology. They told me I had to pee first. All I wanted was ice chips of some sort. My mouth felt like I had eaten a spoonful of flower. It was rollin time.

We got into the IR pre op area. It was nice. I met my new nurse S and the first thing I noticed was her pocket on her scrubs. It was full of syringes which I knew were full of happy medicine. I was ready and excited. At least if I was going to be scared $#!%less we could get the happy drugs flowing. Her and my mum started talking about the IV I already had. Apparently it was only a 22, and because I was going to be receiving contrast (The dye to make everything visible in the catscan) I needed at least a 20. (The smaller the number, the bigger the needle 20>22). I was most likely going to need another IV and I was not excited about that. S, however had already gotten on my mom's good side. My mum being a former nurse can tell when someone knows their $#!%. I later found out during my procedure (because yes I was akwake) that S, had a shit szu. I should have known, no wonder she and my mom were instantly on the same page.

The doctor came in and introduced himself He seemed really relaxed and like he totally knew his stuff. He went on to describe the procedure to which I stopped him.

"I'm sorry I really would rather not know what you're doing."

I put my hands over my ears and started humming like a 5 year old. I knew If I knew what was going on, I would break down into a ball of nerves. He left and the nurses continued to prep me.

After I was almost finished prepping it was time to take me to the Cat Scan procedure room. I would have to say good bye to my mum at the door. The team got me rolling and I met the other two nurses. I felt so comfortable with all three. I knew this wasn't going to be as bad as I thought but I was still nervous. As we were rolling I said

"Who has two thumbs and needs drugs- THIS GIRL!"

When we got into the procedure room the first things I saw were the cat scanner and the table. They asked if I could walk and I was like totally. I laid down and that was when it hit me. This was happening. I started shaking, and they thought I was just cold, and I might have been, but I was nervous as hell. They put warm blankets on me and started prepping me to get me into position. If they were pushing the Versaid, I didn't feel it. I felt nothing. Tears started to stream, and S knelt down beside me and started talking me through it.

"Its ok Court, you're doing absolutely great"

I kept apologizing for shaking but I couldn't help it.

"Stop apologizing, you're doing great. Just try and breathe, relax and let the drugs work."

I kept trying to breathe. I even thought for a few minutes to try my ujjayi breathing technique. Its a yoga breathing technique to generate heat and energy for flow yoga classes. I don't know how well that worked and I probably looked crazy. The nurses and doctor had to leave the room a few times for me to go into the cat scan machine. They put the second IV in and luckily the meds worked in the sense that I didn't feel it. The tears would always flow even faster during the cat scan parts because I think I felt the most alone and exposed. They came back out and placed a sticker of sorts on my tummy. It felt like a graph. C, one of the cat scan techs injected the dye and then I went back into be scanned.

After I had been scanned for what felt like the third time, the nurses came in and the doc started smearing something all over my tummy. OH great. So that part that I didn't want to hear about in pre op was about to happen. Then he said

"Tiny pinches"

. Tears were now pulsating down my cheek as if they were in a race to see who could fall the fastest. Dr. B poked me with lidocaine needles which hurt more then you would expect. "Ugh more scars for my tummy" was all I was thinking. As Dr. B was poking, S was simultaneously shooting me up with more drugs. One of the nurses was stroking my head to try and calm me down and another was holding my hand. I knew something intense must have been coming. Everything was a little blurry at this point but I remember the tears. There were so many which is why is was blurry. It was as if it was pouring rain and the windshield washers just could not keep up fast enough. I felt an odd sensation in my tummy. I could see the cold bright lights. I could hear the nurses. S,

"Breathe Court, let the meds work, you're doing awesome. We're almost done."

They sent me in to the scan again, and then Dr. B came to talk to me. He pulled out what must have been the biopsy tube and it felt like pulling a huge sliver out. I could feel the wiggly cord as it came slithering out.

"I'm very sorry Courtney, but we're not going to be able to complete the procedure. I'm not out to prove anything today and its just not safe to continue. We've been in here for about 2 hours and I don't want to risk it."

TWO HOURS? It had felt like twenty minutes. I was devastated that it had all been for nothing. This meant more radiation.

I think because I was finally able to relax, or so I thought, knowing that it was over and there would be no more pain, I blacked out for a little bit. I woke up in the IR recovery room and was given some Ativan. Although I was no longer scared I was upset. I wanted my mom. She had apparently gone on a coffee run and there was a miscommunication about whether we would go to her, or she to us. I was given gingerale, or shasta. haha I don't even know, and my favorite peanut butter crackers. While I waited, S showed me pics of her shit szu, Lady. She was a little muffin. All of the nurses were ordering food, and it made me realize how hungry I really was. I started to get a little emotional because the time was really ticking by. My mum wasn't coming to us, and I knew it. Not because she didn't want too, because I knew that if she knew I wanted her there... she would have come barreling in, but because someone didn't relay to her that I was ready. S could see the despair in my eyes as the tears started welling up again. She told them,

"I'm taking Court upstairs, you guys can wait for me to order food."

She took me up and bumped the bed into the wall.

"See, I'm terrible with these things, its like bumper beds when I drive."

For a moment a smile broke through the tears and I was feeling relieved.

We got to my room and I saw my mum and it was the moment I let go. I could finally relax and actually let the drugs work. I begged the nurses to let me take my IV out. I hated letting them do it, because well, I had done it enough times and it didn't hurt when I did it to myself. I started to remove the tapes and the little nurse got nervous.

I couldn't wait to get out.

"How much longer do we have to be here? I want to go home. They said we could go at 11:30."

My mum told me the nurse said 12:30 departure time but I wasn't having it. I told my mum, how they didn't give me enough drugs, because I was told I wasn't supposed to remember anything... I remembered everything. I was given one more xanax at this point because I couldn't calm down. I was flustered and upset. I was having another panic attack. I was feeling claustrophobic and just needed to leave. The tears would come and go, and it was getting exhausting. We still had to go see Dr. D for our chemo consult.

We finally got to leave. I up and changed and was ready for Dr. D. I could finally feel myself relaxing. Everyone kept trying to put me in a wheelchair but I was on a mission, I just needed to leave and knew I could do it a lot faster on my own. I knew exactly where to go to get to Dr.D's office, even drugged. We got there and a TIME magazine was sitting right on top of the magazine pile. It said "The Childfree Life: When having it all means not having children." I was like, "well isn't this ironic." We snagged the mag, because I wanted to know who was writing a story on me, or just the fact I was too high to understand what I would be reading.

We saw Dr. D and he went over our chemo and radiation schedule. Tuesday of next week. I HAD to do chemo. These were the words I was dreading.

"Am I going to lose my hair?"

It was the one question I didn't want to have to ask. He said

"Its not likely but it is a side effect, maybe just some thinning."

I was too stoned on xanax to cry. A panic attack was trying to creep in, but the drugs were all finally taking effect. They couldn't have started working at a better time. Finally.

We left and went to valet to get the car. It was Tuesday. The only good thing about Tuesdays is Cream of chicken and wild rice soup at Paneras. I don't remember the car ride back but we stopped. When we got to the house I started inhaling pickles. I was stoned out of my mind, but I was home. I was with Dexter, I didn't feel the pain from the incisions and I LOVED my food. Lets just say there were a lot more pics hahaha, but I narrowed it down.

After I finished eating, my salad, my soup, my pickles, I went and crashed. I finally slept, a good sleep. I needed to recover. My mind was hazy from the meds and so I didn't have to worry about thinking about the reality of chemo or radiation or anything else miserable. I was content. I slept and am glad it was all over. Even though- it was really just the beginning.

$#!% just got real (Part One)

So yesterday (Tuesday) started out as a typical, hilarious morning.

We woke up at 6, well "woke up" isn't exactly the right word, I hadn't been to bed the night before. I needed a nap on Monday and slept till about 7. "Well what do you do up all night"- you ask? Good question. I read, I blog, I enjoy the peace and quiet and if I'm really lucky, I skype ;)

So, I got up, actually put on what Natalie described as my "socialite" outfit, complete with a long green and white maxi skirt, white lulu tank (because anyone who knows me, knows I live, legit LIVE in lulu lemon), white cardigan and my pride and joy Kitson scarf from LA. We hit Duncan Donuts (I miss Tim Hortons so bad its not even funny) and then we were on our way. Thinking back on my outfit, I said to my mum:

"I always wear white when it rains, like always and not on purpose! Its almost as if Mother Nature is telling me to be in a wet T-shirt contest."

It was going to be one of those days....

We left an hour early just to be safe with rush hour traffic (even though it really only should have taken us about 30-45min.) We got about 15 minutes out and then the heavens opened from above and cried their eyes out. It was a torrential freaking downpour. I'm not talking about a little rain, I'm not even talking about a lot of rain, I'm talking about so much damn rain that you could have gone swimming on the high way. The traffic was INSANE. What should have been a quick trip to Lankenau Hospital in Philly turned into a two hour adventure. I could have gotten to Scranton PA in two hours under normal circumstances. The puddles were so large on the highway, we were worried our car wouldn't get through them. Some of the cars next to us almost didn't. The radio and news stations were forbidding people from driving through the puddles because cars were getting swept away and causing accidents. They were shutting down highways left and center but we were on a mission to get to my docs, and although it took us two hours, we damn well got there, and had some fun in the car too!

Mom mom was on a roll. I now know where I get this whole thinking I'm hilarious thing from because she thinks shes hilarious too. The actual difference, is she actually is. Thank goodness too, because in these stressful times, its nice to laugh. Laughter is the best medicine after all. Some of her zingers... I can't even remember the complete context behind them (damn you chemo brain.)

"Well this is new, taking an arc to get to the hospital, should have worn my water wings."

She'll kill me for this next one but it was so funny, I almost peed. I feel like a lot of the things I think are hysterical are those "You have to be there to get the full effect kind of stuff". So she says...

"So all I'm thinking about right now is 2 girls and a cup."

...Oh no where was this going?

"Ummm mom, do I even want to know?"

I was getting a little nervous.

"Well I have to poop! Theres a cup, and we're two girls. Courtney, I NEED to have an evacuation."

HAHAHAHA

"Mom that is wrong on so many levels, and have you even seen that video, I haven't and don't want too, let alone recreate it."

I love how open our family is. When it comes to poop, well I am asked every day by doctors about my BM's (Bowl Movements.) Its something you get used too, REAL fast!

So our family, super open, about everything. I mean I had a friend text me yesterday and ask about my previous blog post,

"Do you let your dad read your Rated R blogs?"

I was like Absolutely. My dad wasn't born yesterday, he knows I'm going to have sex. I am a 25 year old girl, there is nothing wrong with it. There was recently an article written by a father entitled:

"Dad Writes Open Letter To His Daughter: I Hope You Have Awesome Sex."

I think this is one of the most excellent reads I have read in a long time. Now don't get me wrong, I love scaring the $#!% out of new boyfriends by having an intimidating father, but deep down, he's a huge teddy bear.

(Note to future suitors: Mess with me and he will beat you with a hockey stick and he has a mean slap shot! Don't give him a reason too, and you'll actually have a new best friend!)

The point is, as clearly evidenced by my blog, I don't have a filter, but I don't want to have too with my family. Especially my family. I have always really appreciated the fact that I can go to my mom or dad with anything. Obviously some things I prefer talking to my mother about, but I know if I didn't have her, I could talk to my dad too. Boyfriends have asked me in the past

"You didn't tell your parents about this/that did you?"

My response is always,

"Assume they know."

Odds are they will, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

So back to our trip to the hospital, I guess I kinda tend to do the whole running off on tangents thing, oh well. We finally arrived, and our agenda for the day included a consultation with an interventional radiologist, and to meet my Radiation doctor. Then a second opinion with an Ob/GYN Oncologist at Cooper Hospital, in Voorhees which is right next to my house, so would be super convenient.

We went to the I.R. apt first, we were so late from the tsunami that they switched our appointments around. I love how accommodating and friendly Lankenau is. As we're sitting in the waiting my room, my mum was like, you should probably get your insurance card and license ready. I looked down into my bag, and then back up to my mum like a child does when they've been caught coloring on the walls, she looked at me and said:

"Whats wrong?"

To which I stammered:

"Um so I left my other wallet, the important one with the important stuff at home because it was the wristlet I used for the concert and this is my Canadian wallet, but I have toonies!"

My mum laughed and was like

"well, do you have any photo id?"

My purse was jammed fuller than a hot dog eating contest winner in booty shorts, I had to have something. I started riffling through my wallet and started naming things I had. I sounded like that Sunny D commercial, you know the one that's like

"'Hey man what do you have?' 'Well we've got some oj, some purple stuff, OH YES SUNNY D!"

But I digress, my list went a little more like

"Ummm so I've got my Mac Pro Make Up artist license, no photo, my bartending certification, no photo, OH my boaters license!"

To which my mom responded,

"Well that would have come in handy this morning driving the arc? I feel a lot better knowing you have that when we go back out there."

I don't know why but I was dying laughing. She was on a roll today. Eventually I found my Queen's U student id.

"Eh, this will do."

Long story short, they believed it was me and we got in. I make it sound like Lankenau is this hot new club and I'm underage, it's not.

We got into the consultation room which was really boring. Something about it bugged me. I just didn't like the feeling I got from it. I'm very OCD and little things bug me, but the doc's had pics of themselves framed on the walls in articles. It was different though, the Cooper docs, have their

"SJ's BEST Doc ::insert field here:: of ::insert year here::"

, but those are accomplishments. These just seemed staged. There was an empty brochure holder on the wall with the Staples: Office Depot sticker on it. My OCD was raging over this and it took everything in my body to not take the sticker off. I instead opted for putting a random brochure in it, one which ironically enough was from my mom's company's competitor, we don't like them. The Physicians Assistant came in to talk to us and let us know the doc wouldn't be joining us. This was weird, this man is supposed to be performing a surgical procedure on me and I wasn't going to meet him until the day of, this erked me. She explained that the point of the procedure was to biopsy the lymph nodes that appeared cancerous on my PET scan, however this was extremely difficult and dangerous because of their location. The original surgeon who was supposed to do the surgery turned it down, because he didn't think he would be successful. Dr.B who is also the chief of the I.R. dept, said he thought he could.

"So he's basically like the Mc.Dreamy of you all, not in his looks but the fact that he can do the impossible."

Great, something about this just did not excite me. We booked our appointment and left for our next, but I'm just so over surgery. Especially knowing that I'm only receiving sedation and not full anesthesia.

We then headed to the radiation/chemo dept. where I would be receiving my radiation. We went to the waiting room and once again: visual overload. There was a horse. Yes a horse, no I was not on meds. It was a full size paper mache, painted white and pink with breast cancer ribbons, quotes and rhinestones all over it. I had the sudden urge to climb it and ride it, it was beckoning to me. We sat down, and there was a pen on one of the chairs across from me. One lonely pen, sitting all by itself. A. my OCD was being driven insane but B. it was a metaphor for the people that have to come to these appointments alone. It made me really sad, and so appreciative that my mum was there, poop jokes and all. The paintings were driving me nuts too. I know that they are usually donated to these units but come on, lets pick a theme people. There was a cottagy one with flowers, another that looked like an Italian scene and then a wannabe Monet. It was visual overload, including the horse.

I had to fill out some paper work while waiting. I probably get asked the same questions, by every doctor, nurse, P.A., Nurse Practitioner, and tech, 1000 times a week. So I've managed to simplify some of my answers.

"Why are you here?"

Well....

"To fix my $#!%."

If I'm feeling a little classier I'll respond with

"To fix my pooter."

Considering its very rare for someone my age to be dealing with this, like VERY rare, they usually don't know how to handle me, and by me I mean my personality. I love it when they just laugh. So, this was a step up for me, responding so honestly on paperwork. Question:

"What do you expect radiation/chemotherapy to do for you?"

.... Hmmmmm well

"Cure my $#!%."

Obviously, thats kind of a dumb question. Next Question:

"Is there anything else you would like to say?"

This was a new one, but the amount of things I would like to say are endless.... so I just put the link to my blog.

My mum was reading the biography on the doc while I was filling out the paperwork.

"OOOh he's an Eagles Fan, A seasons ticket holder."

Well at least we like the same football team.

"Note to self mom, we're not coming in on Mondays."

She laughed and then said,

"Oh how nice, he coaches his son and daughter's sotfball teams."

I started laughing and responded with

"I'll be he doesn't get thrown out of them for throwing softballs at the ref."

::Backstory:: My mum coached my softball team in kindergarten when we lived in LA. She was slightly competitive so during one of our championship games, she might have gotten a little heated over a bad call. She got so mad she threw a softball at the ref and was thrown out of the game. Luckily my soccer coach at the time was there and she took over, but I'll never forget it.

It was the exact moment I knew I had the BEST mom of all time. I mean she would go to war over anything for me, and that was exactly what I needed right now.


We met the doc (Dr. D2 as I'll call him because my OB/GYN oncologist is Dr.D)

"How fitting, You have the double D's treating you."

haha my mum really was on a roll today. Dr.D2 explained a lot of what I already knew. He talked about vaginal dilators and told me I had an 80% chance of being able to have sex again after this. I was like

"WOAH DOC, hold up. A. a vaginal dilator is a fancy name for a vibrator right? and B. 80%, what about the other 20%."

This was when my day started to go down hill. We talked some more and I wasn't feeling as funny and vibrant. When I'm upset I get quiet. I don't want to cry, I don't want to yell, and I sure as hell don't want to talk. I want to retreat into my blonde safety net and hide.

I went to do my scan and met two of the "therapists" as they call themselves. They were super sweet. I really did like the staff in this department. My mom instantly favored D, one of the RN's because A. she had great lips and B. was shit szu obsessed. I went in for the scan and the girls explained how I was going to be getting tattoos. I was like

"I'm sorry WHAT?, Today? Are you sure?"

I really should have taken a xanax. The tats were so that when they did the scan, they could line it up exactly the same way each time. I once had a really good guy friend tell me,

"Don't get a tattoo, the fact that you don't have any is what makes you different and I really like that about you, its sexy and pure."

Every time I've almost caved and gotten one, that comment has stuck in my head. So I finished the scan and it was tat time. They are three dots, which actually look like nothing more than a freckle. One on each of my hips and one on my gunt. (No thats not a typo, its my gut above my C***, the female version of a gut). They placed the ink on my skin and then pricked it with a needle, not even a tattoo gun. Isn't this just dandy, my first tattoo, and its done like a jailhouse inmate, in the most un bad@$$ of places, a doctors office. How me.

When we finished we were off. I was starving and really nauseous. We headed back into Jersey and luckily had no traffic. We went to Panera's, because Tuesdays are my fav day for their cream of chicken and wild rice soup with greek salad. It was so yum. We then went to target to kill some time before we headed to our next apt. I knew if I went home before the next appointment, I would be out cold. I was getting exhausted, mentally. If you had have asked me at this point in the day I would have said, its been great. Little did I know what was about to come....

I guess now that I have a tattoo, I might as well get the one I want. .... here it is.