Friday, June 6th, 2008

I have a bone scan. To date, nothing in my life has been more painful or traumatic. The nurse who is “caring” for me is not a nice person. She does not trouble herself to administer enough pain medication to me. A lift team is called to transfer me from my hospital bed to the stretcher, as I am unable to move by myself. Not enough people report to my room, so the nurse is forced to help. She loudly complains about how fat I am, causing me to become even more ashamed and tearful. She states that she better receive workman’s compensation if she injures herself while moving me. By the time I reach radiology and am placed on the scanning table, I cannot breathe from the pain. I am shaking and sweating profusely, with tears leaking out my eyes and drenching my face. The technician sees the state I am in and makes a phone call, demanding that my nurse comes downstairs to administer enough morphine to allow me to lay still during the test. She does, but the thought of that day still makes tears come to my eyes and my stomach hurt. While I was still in the bone scan, my parents arrive on my floor and wait for me outside my room. They overhear a nurse complaining that she had to go all the way down to radiology to give her sissy patient more pain medication. When we arrive back upstairs, Ryan informs my parents about the nurse’s behavior. My mother becomes livid and informs the charge nurse that my nurse is no longer welcome to step foot in my room.

Later in the afternoon, my family meets with Dr. Hafez. He is the surgeon who will remove my tumor and kidney. He describes a difficult and dangerous procedure, a radical nephrectomy, involving stopping my heart. I have no memory of this meeting.