Hookwire Biopsy

My brother and sister-in-law were on their way home from the airport. I took the morning train alone to go to the city and continued by taxi to the hospital. I was late for my eight o’clock appointment. The nurses were waiting anxiously for me at day surgery. I met the anesthetist there. He was the same doctor who helped me through my mastectomy last year. He still remembered the case, because at that time he tried to put in three types of tube down my throat, and failed. The fourth one, a fibre optic disposable something finally went in. No wonder I had a horrible sore throat the day after. Other than the difficult intubation, I was very good, he said.

After a brief check up and filling out a form I was taken to the breast clinic. I changed into that ugly floral gown and waited. My turn came and I went into the ultrasound room to get the wires inserted. My mom was shocked when I told her about the wires. “WIRE???” So I lied and said, “X-Ray, to locate the funny stuff.” The doctor took out the pain-killer needle and I started to cry, because that was going to be the beginning of the pain. I cried throughout the procedure, even after I didn’t feel pain anymore. I guess it wasn’t a physical pain that hurt me most. Lately, I cried every time I went the breast clinic. I cried after the mammo, and again when I was asked to have a needle biopsy. I even cried at bookings when I asked the staff what is the difference between a private patient and a public patient and she said, “Private is private, public is public.” I’m turning into a big crybaby. I wasn’t like this last year. What’s going on??