The first thing a hospital does to you when you’re in for a procedure is to insert an IV, “IV” for “intravenous.” This is a fairly large needle connected to a hose which is put into your arm. It hurts at first, but it’s really a blessing because it saves us from needing to take a bunch of pills or have separate injections every time we need something. The IV saves on pain in the long run. At first, the IV almost made me faint. Now, I’ve had so many of them that I make jokes.

A couple of months back, I became so anemic that I had to be hospitalized. I am not a person who has ever had a problem with anemia so the hunt was on for what was causing me to become critically anemic. This became a series of interviews with doctors and blood tests. The doctors suspected internal bleeding, and while I initially resisted the idea, the doctors were right. I was bleeding internally in my colon. This was caused by some large polyps that were becoming cancerous. This was determined by the first of three colonoscopies.

There was only one doctor in the whole region who had the right machine to remove polyps this large without having to do an intestinal resection which is a very intrusive surgery. Dr. Lieu is a young man who is sharp as a tack. I was sent to him and even he was worried that his machine might not handle polyps so large. A resection might be the only way.

We decided that the best bet was to try with Dr. Lieu’s machine. I did not want the resection. Dr. Lieu’s machine was less intrusive. When was the last time you walked into a casino and made a $5000 bet on a single spin of the wheel? That is the price of a single procedure. If this didn’t work it was money down the drain and we would have the to do the resection anyway. A date was set for the attempt.

This procedure is done with a robotic machine (with a human doctor in charge) which inserts a probe into the rectum. This probe is really talented. It has a camera so the doctor can see. It has a knife which can snip off the polyps, and a gas system which inflates the intestine with gas. It has a mechanism to retrieve the polyps. The patient must fast and purge for 18 hours prior to the procedure. The purpose of this is to completely clear the colon of material so the camera can work. This is the worst part of the whole thing. I’ve done it three times in the last two months.

The day arrived and we reported to the hospital at 7 AM. Fortunately, they put you under general anesthesia for the procedure so you don’t consciously experience it. To begin, a nurse comes in and gives you the hospital gown. It should be called “the hospital fig leaf” because that’s all it is. The next step is to set the IV into your arm. You’ve been fasting for 18 hours, and it’s 7 AM. We’re in horror story territory here, but no IV, no good drugs. Once the IV is set, they can put all kinds of wonderful stuff directly into your veins. After enduring the discomfort of fasting for 18 hours, the IV is welcome as it promises the soothing drugs which will eventually waft you off to sleep.

The next thing I knew, the doctor was in my room in recovery saying that he was able to get the big polyp, but we would have to do it all again in a few weeks because there were more polyps. Groan.

The third procedure was scheduled. The appointed day arrived and we did the fast and the purge. I don’t really mind the fasting. It does get me into a more spiritual frame of mind, but the purging is hugely unpleasant. I won’t go into detail on that. We went to the hospital and I was calm for a change. The first time I did this my blood pressure got so high that the anesthesiologist was afraid to put me under. This was anxiety. This time, having become so familiar with the procedure, my blood pressure was a relaxed 135/60. In a bed, in my lovely hospital gown and a couple of blankets, they put something into my IV and I was out.

The next thing I remember was the doctor cheerfully delivering the good news that the cancer had been stopped. I guess most people don’t understand that being told, “We got all the cancer,” is not the comfort that they think it is.

On the far side of three procedures now, my lower back is sore. I don’t want to visualize the cause of that. I have the calm of knowing that a cancer that was beginning in my body has been stopped. The gas was bad and I had cramps the rest of the day.

When you go through something like this, there is a deep, quiet screaming in your soul. There is a horror about it all – the machines, needles, knives and wheel chairs. A part of the mind wants to deny that anything is even happening. No matter how sweet and respectful the medical people are, there is strong sense of personal violation that probably can’t be helped. Afterwards, you don’t even want to think about what just happened to you. Medical people just expect one to endure the horror show and the pain, instead of helping mitigate the pain and fear, and they have the means to do that. They don’t really have the means to deal with the trauma.

I am humbled and I feel blessed that I have the kind of healthcare coverage that I do. It has paid most of the expenses. Most people don’t have that. A single one of these procedures costs $10,000 and I had three. That doesn’t consider all of the other costs and fees.  I could have paid for this out of pocket, but it would have damaged my retirement savings, just so that some doctors can buy new Maserati’s. We found a big problem and we fixed it. It was hellish, but it is done now.

Syd Weedon
3/4/2024