I’m thrilled to report that the Valium worked today.
It’s not often that I’m feeling woozy and unsure of my footing at 8:15 a.m. (Even when I vacation with Liz, Erin and Marijane in Mexico.) But today it was a good thing, as the last time I underwent a thyroid biopsy, in November 2007, the so-called wonder drug never kicked in, and I did the thing sober. If you ever have to undergo a thyroid biopsy, let me recommend: take the decidedly unsober route. WAY better.
My nurse’s comment: “Now that’s what we like to see, drowsy and a designated driver.”
I’ll be honest, though: even the valium + lidocaine didn’t keep the biospy from sucking. BAD. I did deep breathing. I pinched myself when it felt crappy. I did everything I could to stay sane and still (because, really, you don’t want to be anything other than still with a giant needle going into your neck) but it still sucked. And then it sucked more while we waited to see if three giant needle sticks were enough (they weren’t). In the meantime, no small talk — just me, the ultrasound tech and the pathologist hanging together in the room, in silence, while my valium slowly wore off. And then they went back in for more…and this time they got what they needed. With a needle that big, and an ultrasound machine that sophisticated, they should!
We came back to a quasi-normal life. Stopped at Starbucks on the way home. Needed groceries, so B went and bought some (and some roses, yay!). I gorged on Hulu episodes of Glee and The Office and dozed off the rest of my valium trance for about three hours. Lots of texts and emails. In the midst of it all, we learned that a new baby had been born into our group of friends (welcome, Kyla!). Clarence was walked, and fed. Tax bills were paid. And now a bunch of Seinfeld reruns wait for me on our Tivo.
Next week will bring decisions. For now, I’m content to watch an episode about Festivus, the holiday for the rest of us.