Well, I’m feeling sheepish

and embarrassed and humiliated and mortified, all rolled into one!  I'd be more red-faced, but I have to conserve what little energy I have left.  Before I collapse into a complete ball, here's the deal:

I had a CT angiogram of the pelvis and abdomen today.  No, I am not sick, dead or dying.   I am quite healthy and this was not actually required…unless I want to do the major reconstructive surgery that is tentatively planned for January 6, 2012.  

As you may recall, I did not have final reconstruction last year, only an implant exchange and that implant has since failed (as expected).  I never had any intention of keeping the implant longer than necessary, but had to wait at least 4-6 months after radiation finished to allow my skin to heal completely.  Considering what radiation did to the implant, very glad I didn't do anything else prior to now.

The surgery, a DIEP reconstruction, is detailed on the website of my plastic surgeon.  I am not going to link directly to the page, lest someone click right on it and not be prepared for before and after shots.  Instead, you can figure your way around the site if you really want to know what's going to happen.  If not, no worries on my end!

Now before you get your panties in a wad about not being in the 'know'…well, no one is really in the know.  Heck, I'm not even sure it's going to happen, since a lot is dependent on the scan completed today (which almost didn't happen).

It was supposed to be a simple visit.  I would go in, have a quick blood test, a little bit of contrast, a scan and that's that.  Instead, it was a nail-biting, gnashing of the teeth half hour that I hope never to have to repeat.  

The first part was so easy.  I fasted for two hours, showed up on time and filled out paperwork.  I waited a few minutes, changed, had my blood pressure taken and waited again.  Then the torture began.  

You see, I have terrible veins on my left arm.  Guess where blood must be drawn from and where IVs must be started?  Yeppers.  After two extraordinarily painful tries, the tech gave up and called the nurse.  She came in, tried to start a line and within a minute I had contorted my entire body into a pretzel shape.  She then wisely shouted, "Don't move!"

Apparently, with my left arm, the 4th time is the charm.  At this point I waved the white flag and asked to call Pete.  I thought this would be SO simple and I ended up vaccillating between passing out and throwing up.  Luckily, complete NPO goes out the window when you are shaking and sweaty, as they handed me a glass of juice without question.  Ten minutes later, they felt I was sufficiently calm (and would not collapse if I stood up), so I was taken back for the CT scan.

The scan itself was painless.  The contrast?  Good grief, I thought my arm was being shot up for the 5th time!  Luckily I was able to just hold my breath through the pain, but so much for quick and easy.

I took my time getting off the table, getting dressed and then just collapsed in the lobby until Pete picked me up.  Wimpy, wimpy, wimpy, I know, but my veins are just not made for poking.  And now?

Now I get to wait a bit more while the doctor reviews the scan.  Hopefully, I'll soon get a call saying the surgery is a go.  More details soon if it is and if not, well, not entirely sure what will happen…