When The Doctor Offers You Something for the Pain--Believe Him!


When the doctor offers you something for the pain, you should often believe him that you might need it! Yesterday, I had a procedure called a muscle biopsy, where the neurologist took some muscle tissue samples from my left bicep (biceps? I do not know which you use...). My doctors are doing a process of elimination in the attempts to determine what is going on in this never dull brain of mine. I know all these words do not seem to go together--why is the neurologist taking part of my arm to figure out what is going on with my brain? I know, I know--it is kind of above my pay scale to figure it all out. It has something to do with microscopic examination of the mitochondria in my muscle tissue, and that determining whether I have a certain syndrome. (I am hoping for a no.)

I tell you all this to say--OW. It HURT. I am not weenie. I was instructed the way you are before you have regular anesthesia--nothing to eat or drink for x hours before the procedure, yada yada, and I complied. When I got there, it was only local. I felt a little ripped off in the breakfast department--but--spoiler, I survived. My doctor, who is wonderful, says that procedure is in place in case the patient panics during the procedure and perhaps more assistance has to be given for them to get through it. In my case, the local was just enough to get through the cutting down to the muscle. Then came the PAIN. Apparently he could not really put the numbing agent into the muscle for reasons having to do with him being able to retrieve a proper sample, so I could feel him cutting out all three samples. That was challenging!

Kudos to my doctor, though. He has delightful bedside manner, and was regaling me with stories of his upbringing in Iraq (harrowing at times) and his kids, and practicing medicine (so interesting), so quite quickly, I was very distracted and not even noticing that he was stitching me up. I do have a spectacular bruise. My mom made me laugh. When I was telling her about it--she said it sounded like the old westerns where they'd give you a wooden spoon to bite down on when it was going to hurt!


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