I was hoping the "IV" on the door was Roman numerals. I was not so lucky.
"IV" meant that for the second time in a month, a needle was going into my arm, sending me into what I'm guessing is a mild form of panic attack.
Apparently CT scans can be done with or without a "contrast medium" - an iodine-based substance that highlights the patient's blood vessels on the scanned image. Mine required the contrast.
The CT scan will hopefully help my doctor identify a mysterious knotty mass in the right side of my neck. A blood test (panic attack #1) showed normal white blood cell counts, ruling out lymphoma, which appeared to be the first and/or worst concern. I'm not clear on what that leaves, but apparently the imaging will narrow it down.
It's been there for a while without changing. I'm not even sure how long. I got a massage in April and the therapist noticed it then, but I had been vaguely aware of it for probably another six months or year before that. And because I'm not in the habit of mashing around on my neck, for all I know I could have been born with it and just never paid attention.
Even after the massage therapist told me to get it checked out, I sat on it for a while. I figured if it hadn't changed in however many months, it may never change, and probably wasn't anything. Worse yet, I figured it would take a lot of expensive and uncomfortable poking and prodding to figure out that it was nothing.* And my phobia is such that I would rather this thing grow a face and start talking to me than have to have so much as a simple blood test.
My fear of needles is highly irrational. That's established. It's not even a fear so much as a reaction. And it's not the pain that bothers me. It's not even really the needle.
It's the vein.
Even the word makes me cringe. Vein. Ugh. I don't like acknowledging the existence of my veins. I don't like taking my own pulse. I really don't like other people messing with my pulse points. So sticking a needle in there is pretty much psychological torture. I squirm, I groan and whine, I grit my teeth, I get tunnel vision, white out, cold sweats, lightheaded, need to lie down. Torture. I think I'd do better with waterboarding.
Ideally, and probably, this neck mass will turn out to be nothing. But if nothing else, it has let me know that I never again want the doctor to look at me and say "I have no idea what that is." The anxiety and the inconclusive tests are one thing, but I have a feeling the bills are going to be a whole 'nother.
*Update 11/11: CT scan reveals nothing. Literally, they don't even see anything where the mass should be. Confirms it's not swollen lymph nodes, but beyond that, still a mystery. So I get to see specialists - that's plural - next week, who will no doubt order more tests that provide no conclusive answers.
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