Where should I start? It's been a hectic few days. I saw my GP first thing Monday morning, and wasn't even in her office five minutes before being moved to the treatment room to be given oxygen. My oxygen levels were dropping to 77-83% which is definitely not good, and the nurse hooked me up to the oxygen tank while my GP tried to get in contact with the thoracic physician (A.K.A, The Lung Doctor Man). After an hour, my GP told me the specialist wouldn't be at the hospital until 6PM and so arranged for me to be admitted via New A&E (more on this in a later post).
The last few days have been hectic with tests and treatments to no avail. Today, though, I'm dreading.
My x-ray upon admission said 'something's wrong', but the physician can't tell what's wrong exactly. There are 'abnormalities', and he thinks I might have a bronchiole (the tinier airways, after the bronchi) almost completely obstructed, which matches where the worst pain's been for the past few weeks. I had a CT scan done a few hours ago, and I'm getting a bronchosopy so he can really see what's going on.
Frankly, guys, I'm fucking terrified. This is by far the most invasive procedure I've had, and I've never had anesthesia before, either. It'll basically involve getting a camera inserted down my nose and into my lungs so he can have a poke around, see what's going on, take some biopsies, whatever.
Oh, I nearly forgot. Just before I was moved from A&E to the ward on Monday night, my GP popped her lovely face into A&E to quickly check up on me. I actually nearly started crying. Then the MH nurse, who I've just started seeing, actually dropped in quickly last night too, as it was on her way somewhere. I don't know what I've done to deserve such goodness. I've never had a team, or even a single medico, who I've felt actually care about me before. Everyone is so kind and I'm so... undeserving.
I didn't get the opportunity to eat on Monday amoungst the chaos. Yesterday I managed 330 cal. Today I had most of a slice of wholemeal toast with Vegemite at 8AM, but since then, I've been fasting - a requirement for both the CT scan and bronchoscopy. No water, either. If I have any water in my stomach, it could be aspirated during the bronchoscopy. But it means I've not had to stress about food too much these past few days which has been a huge relief, and I've gotta admit; the first thing I'm doing when I get home is weighing myself.
I feel like a scared little girl. Everything's just so messed up right now, I can't even find words anymore beyond depression's word-vomit (e.g, 'I just want to disappear', 'I can't do this anymore', 'It's all so pointless and I'm such a waste'). I can't stop crying. This, the lung issues, is all too much to deal with on top of everything else. I just want to go home and smoke and starve myself into an early grave. And my agoraphobia is fucking crushing me in here. God, I would kill for a smoke. On the upside, I get my quarter bottle of Cabs tonight with/for/after dinner (yes, this is the hospital that gives you alcohol).
I'm sorry guys. It seems I've been posting and commenting less and less since I've been so sick, but you guys mean the world to me and I love you all. I'm reading everything and doing what I can, and I'll try to write more often after my lungs clear up.
I was literally two minutes away from publishing this when the anesthetist came in and whisked me away on a moment's notice, nearly a full hour early, which sent me into full panic. He had to place a new IV since the first one literally fell out overnight (the nurse didn't secure it properly). I nearly broke down when he said, quite brazenly, "You don't eat enough", in reference to my bulbous veins - a combination of a thin wrist and my usual disgusting fluid intake of 16-24 cups a day.
All I really remember about it was the sedative kicking in, the bed tipping back, and the pain of the bronchoscope in my nostril (though I have no visual memory of such), and then waking up, coughing blood, disoriented, an hour later. The Lung Doctor Man spoke to me briefly and all went well. He took a few biopsies so now we play the waiting game. I'm just trying not to think about the logistics of the procedure.
I weirdly cried for an hour because I felt so disoriented. I then had to wait another two hours before I could eat or drink anything afterward. And then, 11 hours after my last sip of water, the nurses all tried to offer me solids but all I wanted was milk, fruit cordial and a freezing cold can of Diet Coke.
It's coming up on midnight, and even if sleep eludes me, my body is crying out for rest. I've had maybe ten hours sleep in the last 96. I've been lucky to get more than an hour's sleep at a time before I wake up coughing, sweating, in pain again, and it's hard to fall asleep in the first place when I feel like I'm suffocating, even though I've been on oxygen 24/7 since Monday morning.
There's so much more to say, but for now, at least, you know the basics. I'll post more in a few days and try to start catching up on comments tomorrow, I promise.
Y'all have seen me without makeup countless times, so here's a 'truly naked' selfie, Bella-style. No piercings allowed. Hospital lighting is shit, sorry.
And the leftovers...