The Ominous "Procedure"

It’s Sunday night and I’m feeling a little anxious about tomorrow’s bronchoscopy/lavage procedure.  I’m contemplating what it will entail:  they’ll put the equivalent of a drain-snake down my throat and into my lungs and then (because that’s not horrifying enough a prospect) they’ll wash my lungs out with salt water.  And they plan to do all this while I’m awake. For real.  Doesn’t it sound alien abduction-esque?  Or like something that might happen at Guantanamo?    At least I’ll be sedated, which is the next best thing to being out cold. I’m hoping to be heavily sedated. Like sky-high and super mellow, simultaneously.  Goofy smile, drool, whatever.  Just as long as I don’t feel like I’m choking on tubes and drowning at sea. Maybe my imagination is worse than the reality will be.  Perhaps it won’t be so traumatizing, this tubes-down-the-throat procedure and this so-called “lavage.”  (They can’t fool me; just becasue they say it in French it doesn’t make it ok.)  Anyway, unpleasant as it may be, I know it must be done – we need to know what’s going on in my lungs, and sooner rather than later.  I just hope that whatever it is that we find, it’s more pleasant to treat than it is to diagnose.