What doesn't kill you

There is an old adage that I often use which says that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. I wonder if the strength you gain is proportional to how close to death you come or how much you actually suffer. Because if it is, I should be as strong as an ox by now! (Or at least a very strong cow!?)

On Thursday the 1st of November, I checked in to the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in Queen's Square, London. I showed up at 9am, having fasted from the night before and mentally ready for the Inferior Petrosal Sinus Sampling (IPSS). But I don't think I was prepared for the day ahead of me. Firstly it turns out that contrary to what was stated on my letter, I did not need to be there for 9am as I wouldn't have the procedure until 2pm. Which also means that I didn't have to start my fast until later that day. But because the nurses were unsure and as usual no doctor was around to give correct advice, they refuse to let me have anything except a small glass of water. 

After spending the morning just sitting around and reading, someone finally came to speak to me just before 2pm explaining the procedure and getting me to sign the consent form. I then walked down to the angio suite with a nurse and waited while they got the room ready. As I waited several people came to speak to me including the doctor who was going to perform the test. He was a lovely gentleman who explained everything to me in detail and seemed very competent. He mentioned that there would be some discomfort but when I asked about sedation or something to calm my nerves he said that not only would I not need them, they weren't allowed as they might affect the results. I would soon come to wish I had insisted a lot more on the pain medication!

Once I was finally settled on the table and everyone around me was ready to go, the doctor began by injecting the local anaesthetic into the right side of my groin area. Though it was fairly painful and uncomfortable, I was able to tolerate it, after all I have a fairly high pain threshold. Even the incision and placement of the catheter was bearable. But when he attempted to do the same on the left side of my groin that is when it all went very very wrong...

I don't know if the left side of my body is just more sensitive or what, but I could feel EVERYTHING and it hurt like hell! It seemed like the anaesthetic wasn't working and every time the doctor pushed and prodded the catheter in, it was as if he was stabbing me with a screwdriver. I'm sorry to be so graphic but it was as if he was trying to stab me and rake at my ovaries. I have never felt such intense and traumatising pain in my life and I've had a broken ankle, broken shoulder, 4 wisdom teeth taken out from inside my gums, transsphenoidal surgery and countless injections. I was in so much pain that I was hyperventilating and couldn't concentrate on anything else but trying not to scream. At one point I started panicking even more because I was loosing sensation in my arms. The doctor explained that this was because I was breathing too heavily and panicking. NO SHIT SHERLOCK!! 

Finally the pain eased off because I think either the anaesthetic kicked in or he stopped trying to probe my left side. I'm not sure as I kept my eyes firmly closed the whole time and couldn't have looked down even if I wanted to because of all the equipment in the way. 

The nurse and doctor then reassured me that the worse was over and that I had been very brave. MORE LIES!! As the catheter was threaded up my veins and to my brain I could feel it when it got to my head. Once again, the right side was ok. It was just very uncomfortable, especially the couple of times when he made me twitch. But the left side.... It was like something was trying to break out of my neck and behind my ear. I could feel and hear popping, it was profoundly disturbing and not to mention painful.

The whole thing lasted about 2 hours although the procedure itself probably only took about 30-45 mins but it was the longest 2 hours of my life. After all this I had to spend another 2 hours just lying on my back in order to make sure I didn't put pressure on the puncture sites. Luckily I got the nurses to bring me a glass of water and straw so that I could at least have that since it was now nearly 24 hours since I'd had anything to eat or drink.

I'm so grateful that my best friend was there to greet me when I came out and even brought me a burrito which I devoured when I was finally allowed to sit up and eat! I've thanked her so many times already but I hope she realises how much I appreciated her being there for me because it really was a very scary experience. I was glad to be able to talk to her and have her there to take my mind off things afterwards. 

That weekend was very difficult for me. Although I was only in slight physical pain, it really had a huge effect on my morale.  I felt very depressed and lonely and started questioning things in my life again. Why did I start a doctorate? How would I be able to cope with all the work? Will I ever be rid of this stupid disease or am I destined to be ill and fat forever? I went through some dark times and felt unable to reach out to anyone... I did speak to my family on the phone several times but it just wasn't the same. I think that no matter how hard people try, it is difficult to understand the pain, suffering and isolation that someone suffering from a disease feels. 

The following week I tried my best to stay positive and appreciate what I have and this did help me perk up a bit. I have to admit, one of the things that has helped me feel happier is that I am finally adopting a dog. After months (years even) of wanting to adopt a dog, I am finally taking the plunge even though everyone tried to convince me otherwise. Probably because I did have a dog before but put her up for adoption because I couldn't handle it at the time. But things are different now and I feel I am ready. I realise I am adding more responsibility and constraints to my life but this is something I want and feel I need. Sure, it will be tough when I'm tired and recovering but I also know that the unconditional love of a pet is a powerful thing. Call me crazy but it's my choice. Unless anyone out there can introduce me to a man who will love me for who I am, and never judge or criticise me so long as I keep him warm and fed! No? Didn't think so... The truth is, I actually still don't want a relationship with a man right now. I don't have the energy or patience because at the end of the day, all relationships are work. I met a man a little while ago who I thought there might be potential with but nothing came of it. I tried to pursue it a little but he wasn't really biting and I just can't be bothered to play games or try hard. I only have so much energy and right now I need all of it to try and get my health sorted and stay on top of my studies...