...the other day I was ranting about how people seemed to be bothered by the fact that I was sick a while back. It seems funny, but the ones I did tell didn't like it, and the ones I didn't tell at that time (my friends) got pissed because I didn't tell them.

...the ones who were rude about it, as if I was some disease carrying parasite, apparently don't realize that that kind of bullshit hurts. It's not the fact that I needed their pity. I hate pity. But the look that would come over their face...and they would either want to hear all about it, or couldn't get away fast enough.

...my friends were and still are great. I guess that proves I am loved, and by all the right people.

...one of the things they do to you before you start your treatments is a bone marrow test, to see if you have any cancer there. If any of you know what it entails, then you know how horrific it is.

...they take a needle, (I'm not quite sure how long it was because I didn't want to know) and they pierce your skin, pushing it in until they get to the bone. Then they have to pierce that enough to get some marrow on a little hook at the end of the needle, then pull it back and out with a sample for the lab.

...for me, the required area of entry was my hip, both of them. I had to lay on my stomach, expose my ass and let the doctor work his magic.

...the day he consulted me, he suggested we do it then. I would just need a local of novicaine, it would only take a few minutes, and I could go home.

...I had just been told the day before what was wrong with me. I had Hodgkins...lymphatic cancer...and I was scared shitless. I heard it was curable, but then he told me I had an 80 something chance of being cured. Which meant, sometimes it's not.

...I agreed to let him do the procedure, and I was taken into a treatment room, told to lie down (after I pulled my pants and underwear down enough to reveal both buttocks) and I was given a couple of shots of novicaine. He left the room, and the nurse was nice enough to answer any questions I had.

...I don't really remember what I asked, but I did learn that this could be painful. She said she would be right there as he did it, and I could hold her hand and squeeze as hard as I wanted. She also told me that some people could handle it and some people couldn't. But she would not let go of me.

...I was getting even more nervous now. Soon the doctor came back in and made sure I was numb, took the needle...and pushed.

...I really couldn't feel it, just like when I went to the dentist (not to mention it was my ass...) he would tell me what he was doing...that I would feel pressure...and that when he got to my hip bone...more pressure.

...I started crying, being the wimp I was, but when he got to that point, I felt more than pressure.

...it's very hard to explain what the pain felt like. I never felt anything so bad before or after.

...the nurse talked to me, trying to soothe me, calm me down. She told me to squeeze, just squeeze her hand...that I couldn't hurt her. I had to fight to keep from crying out, and when he hit the needle with something to push it in farther, I had to fight to keep from screaming.

...that's when I started begging. I said I didn't want to do this anymore, that I wanted to take the sedative that he talked about. I begged him to stop. Literally begged. He seemed to make an exasperated sound of impatience, and suddenly, finally, the needle was out.

...he told me we would need to make an appointment for the next week, pulling his gloves off as I lay there crying like I'd just been shot, and walked out, leaving the nurse to help me up and collect myself. She was very nice to me, telling me it would be better if I had the sedative, giving me a box of kleenex and trying to make me feel better. She asked me if I needed help with my clothes, and even though I was shaking so hard, almost violently, I told her I was fine. Luckily she left the room, and I hid my face in my hands as I started crying again. I didn't want to feel sorry for myself, but I had no idea what I was going to do.

...it took me a few minutes to get myself together enough to walk out of there, and I remember a man sitting in the waiting room, looking up at me. He seemed surprised all of a sudden. I'd never seen him before, but then I realized by the way he watched me...he looked scared...that I must have looked even worse.
posted by Wanting at 4:22 PM