I just knew that something was going to go wrong yesterday…
Turned up at Parkside at 5pm with H for the dreaded BMB yesterday and headed to the 3rd floor (Oncology) where I thought this would take place. Or at least start from, as I thought it would be done in theatre.
Was then told it would be in the Day Unit, not a good sign unless it was to check in there and then head to theatre for the necessary knocking out and doing of the procedure.
Then I discovered that the woman in the bed next to me, separated by only a thin blue curtain, was having the same BMB done first, with the same doctor. I told the nurse I was very worried about the level of sedation as it seemed it would be done right there, in the Day Unit. She looked rather worried that I would be able to hear everything from the cubicle next door… which I then did.
Cue doctor talking to her all the way through, so she was clearly not knocked out. Plus her shouting in pain and yelling 'shit' when he was presumably right in the middle of fishing in her hip bone for bone marrow.
Made up my mind right then and there – I was not going to succumb to this shitty barbaric procedure unless under General.
And in he then came, and I just didn't like his cavalier attitude, nor what he had to say. What a great line this is '90% of patients don't remember anything afterwards'.
Wow, so he puts patients through the pain, but great for him, they can't remember afterwards so don't complain about his technique- which means all future patients have to go through the same shit. Well, that sold it to me – not. Tosser.
So I literally refused, had the cannula taken back out of my arm, got dressed and left. With him going 'oh if you wait 15 mins, I can get you a date to have it done in theatre…'
Yeah, no rush pal.
I''ve had my fill of pain in the last few months, so it was slightly liberating (if only a case of delaying the inevitable) to give him the metaphorical two fingers and walk away.
Will have to see if BUPA will cough for the bigger procedure, which will also take hours of recovery post anaesthetic, but I would still prefer that to some twat drilling away in my hip while I am bang awake and terrified.
I might be post transplant but yes, the shit continues. And I just want to run away from it all… x