“You’ve become boring to us,” Dr. Z said after giving me the results of my PET. “and that’s a compliment.” Yay.
Though then he told me to lose weight. Ah, the days of chemo-slim so far behind. I guess I’ll deal with the trade-off. (Kidding. Mostly.)
Now I have to figure out what’s up with the headaches etc. But in a more relaxed, non mortality-inspired way. But it’s good news. The scan itself was the worst I’ve had. Mainly because I got food poisoning the night before (tho T was fine and we ate the same thing) and so was hurling night and morning. When test time came (they were significantly kinder–apparently it’s the CAT scan people, not the PETs, who are meanies), I had to drink the requisite freezing cold raspberry Crystal Lite “contrast dye” ick. (Does Crystal Lite give it to them for free for the product placement promotional benefits? “Mm, honey, this fruit drink seems like it would taste delicious without the radioactive isotopes. Let’s pick some up on the way home….” Maybe not.)
By the time I was on the gurney in the donut, all I could think was, “Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.” I imagined all the cute lambies and bunnies and puppies on cuteoverload.com to keep calm. For 25 very long minutes. Finally when I realized I was definitely going to puke on their zillion dollar machine, I called out to the technician: “Jose? Jose? How much longer?” “20 seconds,” he said. When I got out I promptly started sobbing–I was so scared of puking and having to be injected with isotopes and all all over again–and then soon was puking into a basin Jose handed to me. Uhg. He kept telling me not to cry. I heard a sweet voice in my head say, “Ignore him, you cry all you need.” I did.
And today is 9/11. Five years later. I sat in the church I spent that day in, this morning on my way to work. It looked completely different than I rememebred, oddly enough. But it was nice to make some time. To remember, to honor, to pray and send blessings.
I wrote this for Beliefnet–an essay on 9/11 five years later.
Some of the reader comments are just brutal, some of the most hurtful I’ve ever received. Thankfully someone actually defended me–unsolicited, for free, and not me–which made me feel better than it probably should have.
Anyway. I hope you are all doing all you need to both muddle through and acknowledge the day.
If all else fails, Suri is really pretty.
