As I was late, the room was practically full with only 3
seats left so I picked the one closest to the front, but on the far side of the
room next to the wall as it felt more “out of the way” and incognito. Most of
you don’t know this about me, but there is nothing I hate more than walking
into a room of strangers (or even a room where I know every single person). I’m
fine about 15 minutes after I get there, but the first 15 minutes leave me in
turmoil as I internally feel like the small marshmallow trying to find my spot
in the overcrowded hot cocoa cup. All I could think about was crossing the
front of the room and getting to my chair since I could tell the class was
about to start up.
The room was set up with about 10 rectangle tables, 4-6
people at each, so we were all facing each other at each table. I very quickly leaned
down to place my bag under my chair and grab the book and paper out of it and
then did a quick scan of the room to see if I could find a kindred spirit I
knew, but as I knew I would at an institution this large, I knew no one….until
the voice in the chair directly across the table from me said….
“Hey, I think I know
you from somewhere….”
I looked up and across the table expecting to see a former
coworker who I somehow didn’t see in my initial scan but then I realized I
recognize absolutely nothing. She was summer blond with her hair pulled back,
and she sported a grin that covered her entire face. Equally as welcoming was
the southern accent she spilled out of the grin. She was wearing the required
nursing ensemble so I at least knew her occupation, but still, there was no
recognition from what I was seeing at first glance.
“Ok, let’s see if we can figure this out” I said.
I asked a few questions: Where did you go to high school? College?
Church? None of which shed any light on how she might have recognized me.
Then she, being smarter than I started with the more obvious
of questions: Which department do you work for? What do you do? How long have
you worked here? All of which I answered and that still shed no light.
Then, with the swiftness of a tsunami wave crashing over land, she says “Oh my goodness, I think I did your cardiac echo last Spring!!!!” Now at that moment the 3 other people sitting at the table turn and look at her like she has lost her mind (I later find our they are her colleagues), and I immediately get this rush of facial recognition, and holy moly you have got to be kidding me, and a little I want to fly out of the room and into a hole, all rolled into one. Without hesitation her colleague looks over and says “Jackie (as we will call her), you do like 12 echocardiograms a day and this was back in May, how in the world do you remember her?” Jackie and I just looked at each other and start laughing.
Now, I’m about to divulge to you one of my most humiliating
moments. I might should have done it before now for the sake of full disclosure
in the things that may take place when you are post radiation and post
mastectomy/reconstruction (you need to be both for this all to unfold). But at
the time, I just wanted it done with and writing has been a bit elusive for me
for a bit since my brother’s death. But in light of Post #1 of the trilogy (See
“Cheese, Anyone?” post from earlier this week) and God most certainly pointing
out to me the role of “his timing” as this trilogy has all happened in about a
3 week time span, I am aware sometimes you put your humility aside when God is
most apparently putting something on your plate. So I am putting my big girl
pants on and putting some of this story out there for you.
Back in April and May, I realized it was time (well about
10 years past time) for me to start initiating some of my cardiology workup.
When you had exposure to as much chest and abdomen radiation as I had, you are
at higher risk for cardiac complications (valvular fibrosis, autonomic dysfunction,
etc.). I had already started the pulmonary workup 2 years prior because of my
pulmonary issues, but had neglected doing my full cardiac workup that was
recommended for this time point post radiation. So I decided it was finally
time to get going with it all. I scheduled an appointment with the oncologic
cardiac guru, who in turn wanted to do a stress Echo and ultrasound. Now before
you sit there and think to yourself “hey, I have had a stress echo”, well I am
sure you have. And before you think to yourself “hey, I have had a stress
cardiac ultrasound”, well I am sure you have. But have you combined the two and
also been a mastectomy reconstruction patient? This is where the humility all
comes to play. Sit back, grab your popcorn and cocoa, and let me help you picture
this.
I arrive to the hospital for my appointment where I was
scheduled for the 30 minute procedure. I go in, get registered and sit in the
waiting room for only a few short minutes before the most delightful cardiac technician
who was a summer blond with her hair pulled back, sporting a grin that covered
her entire face, called out my name using a equally as welcoming southern
accent that spilled out of the grin (Sound familiar to you?). We walk down a
long hallway to a super dark private room that holds a very cold looking exam
table, a high tech tread mill, an ultrasound machine, a blood pressure machine,
and some extra gadgets I don’t recall now, and then “Jackie” very kindly asks
me to disrobe from the waist up (what????) while she runs out to get something.
Well since she asks me so nicely….Then Jackie is back in in no time flat and
starts asking me a few (a whole heck of a lot) of questions about my medical history
all while she attaches electrodes all over my chest. At the end of this, I am clothed
from the waist down, Necked (naked) from the waist up, covered with sticky
patches and cords everywhere which all lead back to an EKG machine next to me. I
was allowed to put on a “gown” to maintain my dignity (but it has to stay open
in the front; so I ask myself what’s the point) because Sally is about to run
on a treadmill. Are you picturing this? Running on a treadmill, necked, covered
in all this stuff, all while wearing a blood pressure cuff to monitor my blood
pressure response to what is happening (oh, I can promise it is up because I am
about to run Necked from the waist up, on a treadmill). In comes another Nurse,
we will call “Heather” to take baseline vitals, which no doubt are all kinds of
out of whack because Sally is about to do what? Run necked on a treadmill
covered in cords. (Sally switches to
third person because that is the only way Sally can get through this story).
Ok, next comes the “trial ultrasound” before Sally gets on
the treadmill to see what is baseline for the heart function. Well low and below,
because Sally has implants, the ultrasound can’t see Sally’s heart because the
implants are in the way creating a “blackout”. So Jackie calls out to get “Sylvia”
as we will call her to place an IV line, so she can inject an “IV dye” which
will highlight the heart silhouette better so everyone can maybe see Sally’s
heart.
So there is Sally, And Jackie, And Sylvia, (and Heather? Where
is Heather?) all gathered around the ultrasound machine trying to see Sally’s
heart around her implants before Sally gets on the treadmill….necked. No luck.
Still can’t see the heart.
“Hey Sally, I really hate to ask you this, but do you think
you could hold up your implant a little bit so I could maybe put the probe
under it?”
“Well of course, Jackie, I can do that!” - at which put
Sally busts out laughing because what else can Sally do and all of a sudden
there is a tiny view of Sally’s heart on the screen.
“Sally, do that again!”
“Do what again?”
“Do what again?”
“Laugh”
“Laugh????”
“Yes, Laugh!”
So now Sally has to hold up her implant and laugh so that
her implant it out of the way and her heart is pushed up against her chest wall
(this happens during laughter) all after (and while?) running necked on a treadmill.
And THAT is what we do. Sally gets on the treadmill, and
does her required stress test wearing a blood pressure cuff while necked from
the waist up on the treadmill with 3 other people in the room. Flies back to
the exam table at lightning speed. Sylvia injects IV contrast. Sally rolls over
on her left side and lifts up her implant and laughs on command while Jackie
places the probe in various positions, Sally continues to laugh on command, and
Jackie continues to take heart pictures, and Sally is mortified all while
envisioning sugar plums dancing in her head. But everyone makes the best of it,
joking about the hilarity of it all, and become fast a furious friends despite
the calamity.
(Are you starting to see maybe why Jackie remembered Sally
out hundreds of patients 5 months later?)
Now let me say, you could not have asked for a better Jackie
and Sylvia and Heather in all of this. They were professional, wonderful,
incredible, and cut up with me because that is how I roll to get through this
kind of stuff. Sometimes not only do you have to put you big pants on to write
stuff down in a form of advocacy, sometime you have to put your big pants on
just to get through it at all.
Finally, after what I’m remembering to be a 2 hour appointment,
after what should have been 30 minutes, I gather my sanity about me, hug their
necks, and say “I hope to NEVER see any of you again.”
And instead, what do I do? I sign up for a class of which
there were like 12 time slots to choose from, and get assigned to a classroom
of which there were like 6 I could have “randomly” been assigned to, and sit in
a chair in which there were 50+ everyone else got to pick from, across from Jackie
who told me to run necked on a treadmill, hold up my implant, and laugh.
I’m quickly learning that “hey, I think I know you from
somewhere….” means God is about to do something only he can do in His timing. There
isn’t a single moment in your day, particularly if another person is in your presence,
where if you are a Christ follower, that God hasn’t purposely placed you there
for that specific moment. There was so much that had to come together for me
and Jackie to end up in those chairs together. I can’t tell you how many people
take those classes over how many days in how many classrooms over how many
times a year. And how many technicians could have been assigned to my Echo case
on that given day? God knew exactly what he was doing. And he knew I needed both
Jackie, and Sylvia (who also had a double mastectomy with reconstruction with the
exact same breast surgeon “LPS” as we discovered in my Echo session – tell me
that was a coincidence), and Heather for the care and humor they would bring in
one of my worst of humiliating moments. I remember lying on that table
thinking, what would this be like had I had anyone else in that room other than
these wonderful gals who made the best of it with me?! I don’t know that meant
I needed to run into them again in a public setting per se, but God knew
exactly what he was doing in that as well for in that came a lesson in trust
for me. Trust God and his timing. I’m having some cardiac stuff going on right
now. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jackie and I meet again soon in her cardiac
room. I didn’t know that when we were in the training course together, but now I
know her name (I had forgotten it) and can ask for her if I need to. The
reasons are numerous as to why God may have purposed our paths to meet. I’m
trusting his timing and he is drilling that in to me right now.
You do that
too, for I am learning in doing that, He has incredible in store for you too.
(This above was the first story of my trilogy, although
they are being told out of order. When this first encounter happened, it didn’t
quite have my attention until after the second Boutique story which you soon
will hear.)
To see the first post in this trilogy click here (Cheese, Anyone?)
To see the first post in this trilogy click here (Cheese, Anyone?)
