I am feeling… something that is one part fear and one part exhaustion and then just rage rage rage, white hot rage that hisses and sizzles.
I don’t know where it’s coming from, but it’s giving me a headache.
I don’t want to hear from anyone but I desperately want to be comforted. I really want my dad, but I don’t want to ask him to come down here until I really need him. And I’d be mad at him if he were here, no doubt.
I can’t really articulate where it’s coming from. I just feel caught up in it and overwhelmed by it.
Nothing is really comforting to me. And people trying to comfort me is just pissing me off.
I may be turning into a grouchy old man. Can you just see me shuffling around town in my work boots and my overalls and my John Deere cap tilted too far back on my head and I’m picking up stones out of the driveway and throwing them at passing cars and wincing and grinning at each impact?
Well, I wish I had exciting news for you one way or the other, but I don’t. I feel like we don’t know much more than we did, just that our unknowing is more particularly focused. There’s no aneurism, no scar tissue, no fetal twin, no tumor.
Just three huge lymph nodes.
So, is the problem something that is causing the lymph nodes to be huge? Or is the problem the lymph nodes themselves? We don’t know yet.
But the doctor says that the bright side is that whatever this is, it’s stuff we can deal with.
I hope that’s true.
I mean, I have hope that that’s true.
Another day, another specialist, another decision about whether to do a PET scan or a biopsy. I really, really just want to lay around feeling overwhelmed, but if I do, who will do the dishes?
My doctor sent me over to Premier Radiology and, when we got there, before nine, it was already packed. I was concerned that I’d involved the Butcher in something that was going to take all day, but once they called my name, it went like this:
I took my bra off, laid down on the thing, got my IV, laid in a sunny donut, held my breath twice, suddenly felt like I peed myself (luckily, I was warned about that), held my breath again, and was all done. I was done by 9:36.
I told my technician about my concern that I might have a fetal twin in my lung and she said not to worry–that in women, fetal twins are almost always in your ovaries.
I’m going to the doctor at three, so, hopefully, we’ll have some answers then.
All my earrings are out. My stomach is empty. My clothes are loose and comfortable. My driver is in the shower. For some reason, I’m really paranoid that I smell like pee.
But that’s it.
We need to leave here in about fifteen minutes, so I guess I should go take the dog out.