Wednesday, October 17, 2012

"Outta Your Head"

I'm a pansy.  I do really well with some things (blood draws, being shoved in a tiny machine and having to hold still for an hour, going at this whole thing solo, etc.) and I do really NOT well with other things (biopsies, injections, stitches, etc.).  When I say that I do really NOT well, I really mean that I don't do well.

It took three appts before I finally let my dermatologist get the biopsy he wanted.  I have another one that has been needing to be done for over a year now and I'm still saying "no".  I was so proud of myself for not crying or fainting during my biopsy last proud that I hadn't yet thought ahead to the part about the stupid stitches they put in!

First off, I think that SOMEONE in the office should have had the sense to realize that I was such a MASSIVE pansy about the stupid biopsy itself, maybe putting disolvable stitches in would have been smart. Through some miracle, I had gone 27 years of my life without having actual, threaded stitches anywhere on my body.  (Gallbladder and wisdom teeth were the disolvable kind!)  It didn't occur to me how much the thought of getting stitches removed scared the living tar out of me until the day before my appt.  So, naturally, I called and cancelled my appt.  She asked if I wanted to reschedule and I told her "no thanks"!

They looked pretty happy in my chest...all two of them.  I mean, the skin was growing back, they weren't interested in moving in the slightest.  Noelle and my Mom had volunteered to take them out for me, I told them both "hell no".  Rachel volunteered and I actually considered...but then we tugged on them and they looked pretty happy.  A few days later upon finding out this fun, my sweet friend Joelle not only volunteered but searched the place we were at high and low for sterile supplies so that she could do it for me.  Much to my relief there weren't any there.

Last Monday it had been almost two weeks since the biopsy and about six days since I cancelled the removal appt.  After a lot of researching, thinking, and talking I had come up with a plan!  I figured that if I could get clean scissors and cut them down as far as I could get them, then I'd clean it regularly and keep it covered until my skin just grew over my stitches!  If my body wanted to push them out, then it could push them out eventually!  After being advised by many, MANY people that my plan was stupid, I made the executive decision to go through with it anyway!  So, I went to WalMart with Rachel (who protested the entire way) and we bought everything we needed!

We got home, she gloved up, I tried not to look or think about any of it, and she cleaned, trimmed, and bandaged me up!  The following day I called my dermatologists office to ask about the biopsy results.  I was transferred to a sweet woman named Michelle.  She explained some really long thing to me about the results and basically said to come in for a follow up because the dr wanted to talk to me.  Then she asked how my site was doing since the stitch which I had to tell her I had cancelled.  We ended up talking for almost twenty minutes and, after patiently listening to me explain my not-so-awesome plan and much, MUCH discussion...I made an appt to have HER take out my stitches the next day.  She promised to be so very gentle, to use whatever anesthetic I wanted, and to be quick.

The next morning I went into the office.  She was perfect; treated me like a scared four year old, spoke softly and sweetly, and was just overly comforting.  Everything was going fine...until the first stitch came out...and I forgot to breathe...and I passed out.  When I came to the first thing Michelle said was "I got the second stitch out so we're all done!"  That instantly put a smile on my face!  After I started smiling, I realized that no longer was it just her and I in the room but there was this sweet older nurse with grey hair who had a cool compress on my forehead, there was another younger nurse with a cool compress on the back of my neck, and the dr and his intern had made their way into the room while I was out too!

Eventually I got the color back in my face, I stopped sweating, and could see straight again.  I pass out a lot these days and have always passed out when I get scared (because I forget to breathe!) so it really wasn't a big deal.  I drank a bit of juice, apologized profusely to everyone, and was on my way!

As far as the biopsy results go...I can't really remember much about that part.  I know that what he sampled was not Dermatomyositis like initially suspected, but he told me to not let that rule it out.  He wanted to biopsy a spot on my cheek and see what results that brought back.  Clearly that didn't happen.  At least not yet.  He said that my biopsy came back showing some autoimmune related form of folliculitis?  Apparently it's all connected but apparently now it is thought that the form of Myositis that I have is a rare one associated with the PL12 antibody.  Of course.  I had JUST gotten the hang of the pronunciation too!  Dang it!

And here is my little tiny biopsy site that had an entire two stitches yet caused so much fun!  Obviously this is post stitch removal...although I swear my plan wasn't too bad and might have worked!!!

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