The Feisty Fontan

If you are facing a big scary medical test, which you are already very nervous about and involves a very large needle, don’t be the idiot who does a Google image search for “how big is a liver biopsy needle” because you will just freak yourself out even more.

I am having a liver biopsy tomorrow and I am totally and completely panicked, terrified, cry-like-a-little-girl scared about this procedure. In my defense, wouldn’t you be a little apprehensive about having this thing stabbed inside you?

I know that I have been thru about a thousand other medical procedures and that many of them are a lot worse than a liver biopsy. I know all this past experience should somehow give me the strength to be cool-as-a-cucumber about having a chunk of my liver pulled out thru my side. But it doesn’t; I actually think my past medical experiences are fueling my nerves.

Because of my past medical experience I know that it will take at least two, if not three or four, attempts to get the IV started.  (I find sitting for a tattoo to be less painful that getting an IV.)  I also know, that for some strange reason, Versed does nothing for me; seriously, Tylenol PM makes me drowsier. One of the qualities of Versed is that it makes you forget the experience, so that even if you are awake and aware, you don’t remember it. Nope, doesn’t do that for me either…I got Versed during my cardiac cath a few weeks ago and I can remember the model number and the manufacture date of the X-ray machine that was above my head (AU287 and Feb. 2007).

But this exact procedure is unknown to me. Out of all the tests and procedures I’ve had in my 38 years, this will be my first liver biopsy. I like to think that even the most seasoned patient is going to have some anxiety over having a procedure for the first time…especially if that procedure involves a big effing needle.  So, as non sensical as it may be, it is both the things I know and the things I don’t know that are contributing to my panic.

I am aware that my extreme fear over this is probably slightly irrational. I know that little kids have had this procedure done. I am aware that my doctors are excellent and that I am in good hands. I realize that it will be over before I know it. I know that the anticipation and buildup is probably going to be worse than the procedure itself.

However, I don’t want to “suck it up buttercup” or “fake it ‘till I make it.” I want to be a big ol’ baby about it. I want to wallow in being a scaredy cat. Part of having a serious medical condition is realizing that there are going to be times when you are scared shitless. Some people might think it is the healthier approach to push that fear aside and put on your game face. Not me, I want to own my fear, sit down and have mocktails with it (with the liver issues, both my fear and I need to refrain from the real stuff). I need to get to know the fear because it’s not going anywhere. Even after this procedure is over, there will be something else down the road where this fear and panic are going to be paying me another visit. Part of accepting the reality of my life is accepting all that comes with it; even the fear.

So, there it is folks…I have pulled back the curtain and just like the Wizard of Oz, my great and powerful heart patient demeanor is a sham. My bravery is a farce. I am really just a chicken shit who knows how to use a little humor to take the edge off all the big, scary pieces of my reality.

(Side note: In recognition of how big of a baby I am being about this procedure, I have channeled my inner nine-year-old and have purchased a pair of unicorn leggings to wear to and from the hospital tomorrow. I hope the leggings will do two things: 1) Since everyone knows unicorns are magical, I’m hoping the magic happy unicorn vibes will help calm me down; and 2) Instead of being remembered as the lady who has a complete and total melt down in the pre-op area, I will be remembered as the crazy lady who wore wild and age inappropriate unicorn leggings.)