"Conscious Sedation"

First, let me say “Thank you” to those who have already responded to the blog. There have probably been at least 5 people that have read it. (Thank you Patra, Jenny, Emily, Adam and anonymous.) Watch out John Grisham. Seriously, thank you for the prayers and the wonderful comments and thoughts.
Back when this was all starting out, I wrote a note to several friends and to my Bible study classes about the kidney biopsy which was performed in October. We thought we would re-circulate that note and a few other “older notes” so that you can get an idea of the path we have traveled.

God Bless!

Bob

"Conscious Sedation"
I am pleased to report that I survived my kidney biopsy. Despite assurances from my medical team (yes, I am now assembling a team) that to their collective knowledge, no one had ever not survived a kidney biopsy (if that is true, why did they make me sign all those releases, consents, acknowledgments of risks and waivers?) my mind kept telling me, “there is always a first for everything.” (David certainly pegged me when he proclaimed that we are “fearfully” made. Psalm 139:14)
I had a little difficulty registering at the hospital. (Baycare facilities are high tech – they make sure you are who you say you are by optically scanning your palm print.) My palm print couldn't be read by the scanner. Doesn't everybody having a “procedure” have sweaty palms? Surely they took that into consideration when they invented the system. Fortunately I did not short out the machine and thanks to the generous use of paper towels, it was ultimately determined that I was not an imposter trying to rob me of “my procedure.” (I believe we could reduce the crime rate by making it the law that anyone convicted of identity theft in a hospital will be immediately sentenced to a kidney biopsy.)
After getting dressed – actually undressed – (biblically speaking - disrobed), I was introduced to the doctor who would do the deed. Modern medicine is amazing. Here was a man who had completed high school, college, medical school, residency and post-graduate training and yet, apparently through proper diet and exercise, he did not look to be more than 14 or 15 years of age. When he left the room, I told my wife that since he is not old enough to drive, I bet his parents are mighty proud of him every morning when they drop him off at the hospital.
After discussions about the discomfort/pain that might be associated with the procedure, the doctor decided that “conscious sedation” would be appropriate for me. I voted for “don't wake me until it is long over sedation” or a medically induced coma.
Since the emphasis in “conscious sedation” is obviously on the first word, I was able to participate in the procedure by informing the doctor when he entered my body (“give him more sedation”) and when he reached my kidney (“have you given him more sedation”) Since no one had ever probed my kidney before, I was rather surprised with how sure I was that he had arrived at the destination. I'm sure the doctor was equally surprised when my “consciously sedated” voice yelled – “YOU HAVE REACHED MY KIDNEY.”
When it was over, a nurse told me to “log roll” over onto the gurney – I haven't log rolled since the fourth grade. I have never “log rolled” while using oxygen, wearing a gown and having an I.V. It was not pretty.
I'm not a doctor but I thought I knew where my kidneys are. To get to my kidney, I would never have started from the spot on my back where the bandage is. It was the medical equivalent of flying from Tampa to Atlanta by way of Newark. But as with all journeys, the important thing is that we arrived safely.
Thanks for your prayers.

Bob