Trapped Between Two Lungs

No, not the pleural effusion -- though that wouldn't be the worst description of what that extra fluid was doing near my left lung. I’m talking about a brand new song to add to my cancer-killing playlist, and, ironically, a song that was stuck in my head during the entirety of my thoracentesis procedure this morning. Before I get to the song, though, I’ll explain today’s festivities.

I arrived at Norris at 10am, pumped up and excited for my procedure. I had almost forgotten the way chemo days and surgery days and procedure days make me feel. Strangely (or normally, in my world), I feel more alive, vibrant, and healthy on these days than on days when I don’t have to deal with any medical procedures. I guess it’s the competitor in me, but “game days” like these put me in an awesome mood, supercharged with positivity and adrenaline. When they called my name and as I walked to the radiology room, I had only one thing on my mind: victory. It was time to rock the hell out of this test and get the entirety of my lung capacity back while I was at it.  

I met up with one of my favorite Norris people ever, a ultrasound technician in charge of checking my legs for potential blood clots who I met way back when in December of 2010. She's about my age, is really cool, and always says the most positive, reassuring things. She saw me and exclaimed, jumping to her feet to give me a big hug. I love getting that kind of greeting!  

With her ultrasound instruments, she located the fluid near my lung and remarked that it really wasn’t that much (love her) and noted that she sees people get this from surgery all the time (love her even more). She marked a little space between two of my ribs to indicate where the radiologist should make her incision and snake the catheter through to the pocket of fluid. Minutes later, a most professional and wonderful radiologist entered, shook my hand, had me sign a consent form, and went to town. She prepped me before numbing the area, apologizing for the sting.

But there wasn’t one. Throughout the whole procedure, I really never felt a thing. Maybe the tiniest of pin pricks, but on a scale of 0-10, the pain level was about a 0.2. She rocked.

About 10 minutes later, the fluid was drained. It was actually quite a bit of fluid -- 800 mLs -- and it was warm to the touch (of course I picked up the bottle of fluid to take a picture with it). My lung felt a little strange after the catheter was removed, but I was told that it was because my lung was re-expanding. Evidently, this fluid had collapsed a part of my lung. Seriously, fluid? Why be a jerk like that? I find it particularly awesome that I have been lifting weights, swimming, and playing basketball with a partially collapsed lung. I am not to be messed with, people. I am a physical specimen!

No matter what the results, ladies and gents, I am going to be fine. We know this. So don’t worry between now and Monday, ya hear? I’m not. And I’m being 100% serious. Ok, back to the song.

“Trapped Between Two Lungs” is a song by Florence + the Machine (of my cancer-killing soundtrack “Dog Days Are Over” fame) and was absolutely perfect for today’s adventures. My favorite lyrics? Easy.

Gone are all the days of begging
The days of theft
No more gasping for a breath
The air has filled me head to toe
And I can see the ground far below
I have this breath and I hold it tight
And I keep it in my chest with all my might
I pray to God this breath will last
As it pushes past my lips as I...
Dance