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.

Get Chatelaine in your inbox!

Our very best stories, recipes, style and shopping tips, horoscopes and special offers. Delivered a couple of times a week.