written on October 31, 2014 and updated on November 7, 2014
As good as I’m feeling every day, it dawned on me yesterday morning that over the next couple of weeks, I’m going to have the remaining two tubes pulled out of my body. The one is the perma-cath that’s been in my chest since May – the dialysis catheter that I’m no longer using (thankfully). That's scheduled to be removed on November 18.
The other is the stent they left in the kidney’s new ureter. That one's coming out next Thursday (Nov 13).
I’m not sure which one I’m dreading having removed more – the one in my chest, which is going to be fairly easy and straight-forward to pull it (someone just has to grab it and yank, and apply pressure to the hole in my jugular where it enters my vein so I don’t bleed out). I've been told the whole procedure will take less than 5 minutes, even with the application of the lidocaine to numb my chest, but then I'll have to stay in the hospital bed for at least an hour to make sure I'm not bleeding anywhere. And I'm pretty sure they're going to have to stitch up my chest - it turns out the hole where the catheter exits my body is quite large. So probably another couple weeks of no full-on showers, but the day is coming!
The other one, the stent, they need to insert a catheter (in my least favorite place to have a catheter inserted - yes, the penis), and a little camera, go on a little scouting expedition in my bladder to find the stent, then snag it with the catheter and pull it out. Both of these procedures are outpatient, done in the doctor’s office, while I’m awake and alert and aware of everything they’ll be doing to me. Yes, they'll be doing local numbing (more lidocaine!), but I'll still be aware of what's happening.
I’m clearly going to panic the day of the procedures. These kind of things really freak me out (have I mentioned that before?). I've been told I need to ask for a sedative, like Versed (my favorite drug - no memories), but part of me doesn't want to do that. Part of me wants to go through it, aware of everything. Because I won't be able to write a blog about the experience if I don't remember it. And really, I enjoy sharing my experiences with others. I know, I write a lot, and I'm very wordy most of the time, but trust me, it's hard to find the specifics about these procedures on the internet. No one seems to want to share the intimate details of what it's like to go through medical procedures. Well, I don't mind the share. It helps me process it, and maybe others will find it interesting as well.
To top it all off, something tells me that once both of these tubes are removed, there’s going to be a few additional days of healing that will have to happen. I'm speculating that when the stent is removed, I’m going to be in pain when I pee for a few more days. Oh well. Just when I’m finally used to peeing without pain again, and now comes the knowledge that the pain is going to make a return appearance next week. Fun!
I don’t know why it bothers me so much. It really shouldn’t. I’m not the first patient who has had to go through this, nor will I be the last. I’m just a real baby when it comes to removing foreign objects from my body; I think that’s a normal response. Very fews things freak me out, but this is really high on the short list.
On the other hand, I can’t wait to have these tubes removed – then I really will be back to “normal.” And I’ll be able to take a full-on shower again. Won’t that be nice? I’ve been taking half-showers for the last two weeks – only getting one side of my body wet and scrubbing down. It’s nice washing my hair in a shower again, instead of a sink. Maybe I should have just been doing this half-shower thing all summer long. Why did I keep taking sponge baths? I didn’t realize how easy it is to only get half of your body wet.
As squeamish as it makes me, I say bring on the outpatient procedures. Let’s get me back to a single, solid, normal human being with nothing sticking out of me any longer. It will be nice to finally be a closed system once more.