So get this... I had a liver biopsy yesterday. As I’ve explained before, I’ve been having some problems with increased liver function, so my GI specialist decided to do a biopsy to make sure it wasn’t anything worse than a fatty liver.
So…Can I tell you how bad that sucked?!?
First, they lay me on an operating table, find my liver, and write all over me in marker. Apparently, Doctor’s go to med school and spend a buttload of money to learn the impressive diagnostic tool of thumping your fingers on someone’s side to find their liver. And, the funny part is he thumped me, marked it, and then decided to double check with the good old ultrasound. Based on the second set of marker scribbled on my side, I can see that the high tech ‘thumping method’ was off by a good four inches. So, had he relied solely on his thumping method, he most likely would have stabbed me in the gall bladder, or spleen, or something. Reassuring, eh?
By the way, did you know that your liver is actually up UNDER your ribs? It is, which means they needed to cut through the meat between two of my ribs to get to it. Let me repeat that: THEY CUT THROUGH THE MEAT BETWEEN TWO OF MY RIBS. This is funny because the doctor told me - in the office – that he’d just poke me real quick in the side, I’d never feel it, and it’d be over in a second.
Doctor Sadist: Don’t worry; you probably won’t even feel it.
So he makes an incision in my side, hits me with some topical Lidocaine (which doesn't ever work on me. I have too fast a metabolism.) and he makes a few exploratory pokes with the needle.
Me: Ow! Still stinging. Ow!
Dr. Sadist: Hmmm. Let’s try some more topical anesthetic.
Me: Ow! Now you’re poking an entirely different spot!
(Scraping noise as Dr. Sadist drags the needle across my rib)
Dr. Sadist: Hmmm.
Me: Owww! If I live through this I’m going to eat your children. I swear to the dark gods… Owwww!
Dr. Sadist: Now take a deep breath and hold it…
Me: Why? I’m not ready for you to…
The doctor then takes another eight inch needle mounted in a spring loaded gun, sticks it in the half-numb hole in my side, and PULLS THE TRIGGER.
Now, because the needle is spring loaded, it makes your liver jump inside your abdomen. It moved my lungs, my heart, and shifted my stomach. I actually felt things move. None too pleasant a feeling, I can assure you. Imagine getting kicked by a horse - - only on the inside. That'll give you a feeling of how damn painful, and yet chillingly creepy, it feels.
Now, being me, I asked to see the end product, which Doctor Sadist was more than happy to show me. Try this: take a look at your little finger - - see the length from your middle knuckle to the end? That's how big a chunk of my liver they pulled out. (Shudder!)
Now I have a very high tolerance for pain. (I, for instance, have tattoos and used to have a pierced nipple. I say used to because I tore it and my left nipple off whilst leaning against a fence. Not once during that whole lovely ordeal did I complain about the pain.). Yesterday though, after having my insides suddenly bounced around like Jello in a very big bowl, I saw white, and said, very loudly and angrily - "That fucking sucked!!!”
And what kind of answer does the doctor expect to the question, "Are you up for one more? We don't need to, but I'd like another sample."? I think my murderous glance convinced him that that would have been a bad idea. Well, as murderous a glance as I can give when I'm dizzy from pain and unable to breathe because my goddamned lungs have been displaced my several goddamned inches!
So, I'm at work tonight, training with a sore side because I have an incision and the doctor scraped a needle across two of my ribs and because I had my innards forcefully moved about. And I still can't breathe in all the way.
I’m so not happy with my liver right now. We're not talking to one another. When that sucker gets healed and better, I'm going on a bender. I'm going to drink until it's as black as David Crosby's.
Mark my word.