This morning I had the biopsy and it was terrible. Absolutely horrifying.
I was so anxious about the whole thing. I got there at around 7am, about 20 minutes earlier than I was supposed to arrive. I really wanted to finish all my business with nature beforehand … because I didn’t want to have to focus on dealing with the pain AND needing to go to the restroom. Fortunately, I had to go as I was getting there.
So I’m sitting in the waiting room. My feet are cold and remain freezing throughout the whole time I’m there. I took in a Jeff Smith (ala Frugal Gourmet fame) book and a month old issue of “EE Times”, but there was today’s issue of “Wall Street Journal”, so I read it. I really didn’t know what I’d want to read, I just didn’t want to be too analytical, but I wanted to keep my mind occupied. I read about Mr. Bend or something like that … the guy who pioneered money market accounts, but got pwned because his firm picked up $800M of Lehman Brothers right before they tanked.
Come 730am, I get called back.
They got me in the chair, got a cuff on my right arm, took my glasses. I told the doc that I had brushed, rinsed with chlorhexidine before hand, but I was running out of what my dentist gave me, so I asked him for a prescription. Because I didn’t want to pay $30+ for a pint, when I could get it filled as a prescription for $5. He said he was already ahead of me … and had already made the prescription out. He was going to give me also a pain reliever (vicodin) and an antibiotic (Amoxicillin).
They put these plastic lip retractors in my mouth and he pulled out what appeared to be a fairly nice digital SLR camera with a lens with a light ring. He was taking photos to send up with the sample, he explained and they did photos for a before-and-after kind of arrangement. This struck me as weird, since this so totally wasn’t cosmetic. I could live with a slightly larger on one side assymetrical jaw, just as I am living with a nose that points slightly more right that I’d care for it to. I’m not vain and my aversion to pain usually wins in decisions like these.
They gave me 5 or 6 shots in jaw. I asked him if he was injecting the inferior alveolar nerve and he said, yep, you had to do all 3, that, the buccal and another. I was being a show off 😉 I asked him also if it was novocain and he said they didn’t use novocain anymore, but the name had come to mean any kind of injected local oral anesthesia. He said they actually use lidocain now and I asked why. Apparently, lidocain lasts a lot longer and has less adverse reactions. I guess some people have allergic reactions to novocain.
He let my jaw numb up for awhile and left the room, and I made small talk with the assistent and after numbing up for awhile, the doctor came back in. They put a piece of black rubber in the right side of my mouth … to bit down on and started doing other stuff. I just closed my eyes. I really couldn’t deal with this. It was too much, or so I thought. That was only the beginning. They did move pretty quickly. Something was put into my mouth, maybe like some kind of metal guide … did they use this to control the motion of the scalpel. I didn’t feel that. There was suction, and some gause packed in then removed. I assumed I was probably bleeding all over the place. But I didn’t feel it and that was okay.
And then he pulled out what I presumed were medieval tools of torture. At first it wasn’t too bad. I could feel the pressure of his high quality surgical stainless steel tools moving across my jaw bone. But I did not feel pain. That would change. He too worked fast. There was almost a rhythm to it. Pick up tool, scrape bone, something small hits metal, tool hits metal – clank. But then he was moving his tools around and I’d hear crunching. That absolutely mortified me – that I’d hear my own bone crunching under the pressure of a metal tool. “This is all based on peer-reviewed technique, etc, etc.”, I kept telling myself. At that point I was just feeling deep bone aches … like sudden but briefly lasting flare ups of pain. This went on and ramped up in terrifying crescendo. It kept getting more and more painful. And just when I thought it was over and he was about to sew me up and new round of agony was inflicted on me. I tensed up and squeezed me crossed legs together as tightly as I could manage. The nails on my clenched fists were digging into my palms. I was almost to tears it hurt so bad. But it got even worse. I peeked to see him with a pair of plier thingies and I felt this deep, grinding, stabbing, pain … it was one of the worse pains I’ve ever encountered. I was shaking it hurt so bad, muted wailing and I couldn’t make it stop. This went on for over an hour. Just when I thought he was done, a new round of terror was unleashed on my jaw.
I tried to think about anything to take my mind off of it. I was starting to wonder if this kept up if I’d actually faint. It was too much. After he was done and sewed me up (I could feel the thread brushing against my lips) he sat me up and shook my hand. I was almost in disbelief. Was it done? Could it be done? I was so disoriented. Still trembling. It was terrible. If I ever have this to do again, I’m going unconscious sedation. He said “Next time we’ll get you on IV”. Gee, thanks.
He said they’d overnight the sample to the pathology labs in Dallas. I thought he sent them directly to Baylor. I’m trusting that this will all work out .. those details of it at least. Along with the photos he took, which he showed me. When you sign up as a new patient, he basically makes you give him rights to use any photos, samples, video, etc. (with your identifying details removed of course). Is this why?
I just lay there in the chair, my legs hanging off of one side and closed me eyes. The assistant was explaining to me what I should do and what I shouldn’t and I mumbled with my half-numb mouth “Is this all written down?”, because I was in no mind for details. I just wanted to lie down and sleep or something and have somebody watch me to make sure I didn’t die. Because I wasn’t entirely certain that I wouldn’t. However, they must have had more patients in the pipeline, because she seemed in a bit of rush to get me out of there. In the hall across from that room are two small recovery rooms. They should have let me lay down in one of those. But I was too out of it to put up any protest.
When I got in my truck to go the Walgreens to get the prescription filled, I was shaking pretty bad and had to consciously concentrate on driving. That’s how much the whole thing shook me. I went to Walgreens, then HEB, then work. I figured it would be better to be at work, where I was in town and could get to an emergency room quickly if I had to, rather than being out 30 miles away and all alone and stranded.
I’ve eating nothing but sherbet and those cool gaspacho soups that a family member distributes for that food outfit he works for. At around noon, the lidocain started wearing off. I tried to keep the vicodin dosing constant, 10mg at 1030a, 7.5mg (?) at 200pm, at 4?. And constant ice pack, except I didn’t think to pick up one at either HEB or Walgreens, so I used a gallon sized zip lock bag. And it leaked and leaked. I told my coworkers if any of them asked why my shirt was wet, I’d tell them I was lactating … that would stop all inquiry there 😉
They put gauze in and told me to change it out when I got to work/home, then to change that out and not put any more in. I observed that it was soaking with blood, so I put another in. Observed that was soaking with blood, replace. I did this about 4 times … for about an hour before I called them back, like they tell you do to in the instructions. Ok, they told me to stop putting gauze in, because I’m preventing it from clotting and it’d just keep bleeding. So I stopped. They exhorted me to eat cold stuff, it’d get better they promised.
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Ameloblastoma: My Experience 