Yesterday was one of those days in my life that I won’t soon forget. I received good news. The best news. I was told by my doctor that there were no tumors growing inside of me. And that’s a good day. And I guess that’s a good place to start, with how the day went for me.
I had to have a cystoscopy(as you may have read in earlier posts). I have had blood in my urine for over two months now, and had other tests done to rule out most other things. It was not an infection, nor was it kidney stones. To find out what was wrong with me they were going to have to go in and look around. One of the main things they would be looking for with this test was cancer in the bladder. I was told that at my age it was very unlikely, which to some degree was comforting, but I knew the truth being that people get cancer at 38. One of them being my mother, who had breast cancer when she was 38. So I was very nervous, to say the least.
I chose to be knocked out for the procedure, as there was nothing about this test I wanted to be awake for. A year ago I was petrified of anesthesia, and now here I am requesting it. The world works in strange ways.
The night before the test I couldn’t sleep at all. I stayed out a while pondering life and everything that could change with the news I would get Tuesday. I stared a lot into the sky and wondered a lot about what it all really meant. Then I came home and watched a lot of tv and went to bed somewhere around 5 or 6 in the morning. I got a couple of hours of sleep and then took a cab to the surgical center at 9am.
When I got there I was a bit nervous. I had been put out for an endoscopy at this place before, so I was comfortable on some level being there, but just nervous about what was going to happen and be found out. This was not a procedure anyone would want to have unless it was absolutely necessary.
I filled out and signed all that fun paperwork first. You know, the ones about the risk of you dying during the procedure and blah blah blah. The fun one’s. That is always a delight. I was then brought inside and shown to my bed/gurney and told to take everything off and to put the robe on. Which I did. I then laid back on the bed and the anesthesiologist came in to talk and try to put my IV in. I say try, because, as always with me, I am a tough stick. It took 3-4 times to finally get it in and a second arm. It wound up going in my hand this time. More joy. But he told me about what was going to happen and we agreed that we thought he was the one who administered my anesthesia last time I was there, so that was a bit comforting.
From there I met some of the nurses who explained what would be happening, and they told me the doctor was running a little behind schedule. That was no big deal, but the nervousness that comes with that waiting really sucks at the time. The anesthesiologist stayed to talk for a bit cause he could probably sense my nervousness(or he had nothing better to do). We talked about the gastric bypass and all the changes in my life the last year. And it did make me a little less nervous than just sitting there.
Then my doctor arrived. He came in to talk to me and asked me a series of about 20-30 questions about my urinary habits. More questions than I thought even possible on the subject. He then told me what he would be doing and looking for, and then all of a sudden we were ready to go.
Someone came to wheel me down the hall and into the room, but just as we left my space the anesthesiologist squirted something into my IV and said that it would take the edge off. Sounds good to me. As I was being wheeled in he kept asking if I was feeling any different yet. I wasn’t, or thought I wasn’t. We then got into the surgical room and they asked me to slide from the bed I was in, and onto another gurney. I then had a mask put over my face and remember looking at the ceiling and being told to take deep breaths. And next thing you know I am awake and being wheeled out of the room and it was all done.
I don’t know how long I was under, but it was probably 30-45 minutes if I had to guess. It was supposed to be quicker than that but the doctor wound up cauterizing some stuff in my prostate, where he found the bleeding was coming from. He said other than that everything looked good and I had NO tumors that he could see in the bladder. And just like that, in an instant, almost three months of mental agony was over. It is quite a feeling, quite a feeling to be told you do not have cancer. At times I was convinced I was going to be told the worst. Having all the same symptoms, and constantly seeing that blood when you urinate made me expect to or want to be prepared for it. It is horrible, and you just can’t help but think the worst is going on inside of you. It was only when the bleeding would stop for a few days that I would or could start to get positive again and let myself think it could be something else. Luckily that happened the past few days before the test yesterday, and I was feeling pretty good that I could be okay again. I started getting that positive outlook again. And luckily now, I have peace of mind, and know exactly what was happening. I could not be more relieved or happy.
The burning pain that I was told I would have after the cystoscopy during urination is actually worse than I could have imagined. The first day was almost intolerable, but, all things considered, I’ll take it. Today it hasn’t been as bad, and hopefully in a day or two it will painless. Also, the bleeding is a lot more now, due to the cauterizing that was done inside of me. It’s a bit unsettling, to be urinating that much blood, but I know the reason it is there and coming out of me now. The doctor said as it heals inside me, all the blood will stop, and everything will go back to normal.
These past two months have been a whirlwind of emotion for me. Now that it is over, I can hopefully look back on this experience and pull some positives from it.
I thought a lot about how I lived my life up until now, and all the positive and negative choices I have made along the way. I have done many good things, and many bad. I thought a lot about what I would do if I found out I was healthy again, and now I have to do those things. I have to do them for me. Get busy living or get busy dying, as the old saying goes. Plain and simple.
So now, 2 days away from my 39th Birthday and 10 days away from the 1 year anniversary of my surgery, I am smiling, happy, and feeling better again. When I think about how much weight I have lost, I laugh, because what else can I do. It’s 227lbs, and that is just silly. I am proud of myself for going through with the surgery, and for being able to get to a year out now with this much weight off. It is an accomplishment and something to be proud of. I know that.
This is an exciting time in my life. And I know it can and will be the best time in my life. I am looking forward to the future.
Hope you are all well…