My First Liver Biopsy

Now a few words about this day, my liver biopsy day. Closest thing to a day at the spa I‘ve had in a long time. Sad, but true.

Got up, took a bath, got dressed and Rebecca came to drive me to the hospital. Tim had to get all three kids ready and to their respective school-care spots so I figured someone else should take me since the appointment time was 8:30. After I checked in, I sat down to enjoy a cup of tea and the front page of the Pioneer Press. Soon a nurse or aid came over and whispered that I should not eat or drink on this a.m. of having a procedure! I guess I’d heard the “no eating, no driving” part when the hospital appointment lady was scheduling me last week, but the ban on drinking fluids got past me. I disappointedly put my tea aside, but enjoyed seeing my lovely friend Rebecca show up again with a little gift from the hospital shop. A bit of chocolate in a smiley face wrapper and a small bottle of Lavender Mandarin essential oil for relaxation.

“Relaxation Synergy, using soothing Lavender, calming Mandarin and other oils, has comforting properties and leads to deeply relaxing feelings. Relaxation Synergy helps us relax the body and calm the mind, releasing tensions and bringing feelings of tranquility and comfort.”

I didn’t really think about what I was doing today until I was in the car with Rebecca. Then I started remembering my mom’s visits to the hospital for procedures and transfusions and all the rest. The antiseptic white fluorescent poking prodding with too many questions too often repeated is not an environment I like to seek out. I got called back for bloodwork to make sure my blood was not too thin, then back to the waiting room where I only sat long enough to glance at the story about the female amputees who are returning from fighting in Iraq. Something we’ve never had here before, female soldiers with body parts blown off by suicide bombs and other acts of war.

The nurse who took me back to the room is very warm and sweet, early 50s with below shoulder length blond hair and a 70s hippie like calm demeanor. She takes note of my small veins and cold hands, and she gets warm blankets to warm up my arms before she tries to put in the IV needle. Despite her effort to enlarge my veins, she has a hard time getting the needle in and I start to get nauseated. More nurses come, one to describe in detail the "grissly" liver and the procedure, which does nothing to help the state of my stomach. Watching my whitening face the second nurse starts to get the picture and hands me a bed pan, but I ask where the bathroom is and end up wretching up nothing since I haven't eaten since last night. After that I’m fine, but I ask if I can skip the pain meds and tranquilizer since I fear they will make feel sick again. I expect to get a little guff for this request, but my nurse seems rather impressed and says that of course I can try that if I want to. If I change my mind I have the IV set up so she can give me something as needed.

Turns out the doctor does the biopsy while looking at cat scans of my middle torso. I slide in and out of this big machine that talks to me and tells me when to breathe and when to hold my breath. The doctor comes in, chats with me a bit then gives me the lidocaine in my right side where the biopsy needle will be inserted. The actual procedure probably takes 5 minutes. I felt it each time I heard the snap! of the tissue sucker apparatus, but just a slight twinge. I asked to see the biopsy product after it is all done, and the doctor holds up a little cup of clear liquid with 3 tiny pinkish-brownish strings of wormy matter that has settled at the bottom. The radiation tech cleans up the site where the biopsy was taken, then they move me to a bed on wheels. The only pain I feel is a little twinge in my side when I take a deep breath. The IV deal in my arm is more irritating than the biopsy site. I get wheeled to a recovery room, flat on my back so I get to watch the ceiling panels change color as I move from one section of the building to another. I’m told to stay for 3 hours post procedure and take only clear liquids until the staff have observed that I’m not bleeding or whatever else bad can happen after a biopsy. So now I’ve had the pleasure of 1.5 hours of sitting in bed with a cup of tea and my computer, in a quiet room to write and think and get ready to go home and “take it easy” for a day. No lifting, no gardening, nothing strenuous that pulls on the diaphragm or opens up the needle’s healing path to the liver.

Can I handle this? Yes, I believe I can. The only challenge I see on the horizon is remembering not to pick up Maureen when she stretches her arms up to me, and not to go out and dig up hostas until the day after tomorrow. Good news is that the driving restriction for today is no longer in force since I didn’t have any drugs.

Since the nurse at the gastro clinic has told me several times that biopsy results will not be discussed over the phone, I will have to wait until my M.D. visit on May 5 to find out what exactly the deal is.