The Biopsy
I am terrified of needles. I faint when I have to have blood taken, I can’t look at an I.V. in my arm. I have a panic attack when I have to get vaccinations. I can’t even watch people shooting up in movies. Putting a sharp metal object in your body seems invasive. I’ve had my ears and my belly button pierced but that’s not the same as a needle at a doctor’s office.
I scheduled my biopsy for Friday morning to give myself a chance to heal over the weekend. The day before the appointment, a nurse at St. Luke’s Breast Cancer Center called and explained the biopsy procedure I was about to endure. She said that they would insert a needle into my left breast to numb the pain and then another needle to remove tissue samples to see if the lumps in my breast were benign or malignant. She said she saw in my notes that I fainted during the mammogram and would call in a prescription for anti-anxiety medication.
I took one Valium an hour before the procedure and thought there was no way this was going to stop my panic attack. Thankfully, I was wrong and was fucked up within minutes. My worries and panic melted away like ice cream on hot asphalt. When we got to St. Luke’s, we drove around looking for the Breast Cancer Center because I gave my husband wrong directions. I may have done that on purpose to buy a little time before getting stabbed in the tit.
Hailey, my mammogram technician, was working that day and joked with the nurses that I only passed out once last time. I changed into a pink-pattered hospital gown and met Hailey in the hallway. Next, she ushered me into the biopsy room, and I laid down on a bed. Dr. P., an attractive, young doctor introduced himself and asked if I wanted to listen to music during the procedure. I couldn’t even think about what to request so I said anything but country. He chose Jack Johnson, which was a nice distraction from the sounds of the machines and worried thoughts in my mind.
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I assumed they would numb me topically first, but Dr. P said, nope. One of the nurses suggested we put a washcloth over my eyes so I couldn’t see the needle. Best advice ever. Dr. P talked about the lyrics as he filled a needle with lidocaine. He said it would feel “spicy.”
“What do you mean by spicy?” I asked.
“Like this,” he jabbed the first needle in.
It stung but the lidocaine worked quickly. He stuck the needle in a couple more places. Next, he inserted a needle that would extract tissue samples. A loud pop preceded each of the three extraction points and I felt pressure but no pain.
Dr. P finished up, said it was nice to meet me and went on to his next breast biopsy. The nurse cleaned me up, applied a bandage, gave me a little cup of apple juice and I went back to Hailey and the mammogram room. She was very sweet and made jokes while she took two pictures with the gargantuan mammogram machine. I went back to the lobby where my husband was drawing in his sketch book. The Valium began to wear off and the pain crept in. We stopped at the grocery store for Tylenol, chicken soup and mint ice cream. I rested, applied ice to my boob, and watched an episode of The Boys.
Now, I wait to hear whether the tissue samples are benign or malignant. I could check my patient portal to see the results or discuss them when the nurse calls me in three business days. Dr. P said they sometimes use vague and confusing explanations in the chart so I might want to wait to hear from a nurse. I’m scheduled for jury duty next week so I will receive a diagnosis while at the Ada County courthouse or at work. I hope the results are benign, I don’t want to have cancer and I don’t want to fall apart in public.
