The Scan Plan

It's over. I had the scan. It was fine. It was just like all the other scans, a big glass of what Ruth said tasted like orange Barium (she was nice enough to taste it when I asked her to, now that is a true friend), an injection of contrast dye that makes you feel exactly like you are peeing your pants but you are not, a few minutes in a tube and that's it.

More on the contrast dye thing. They call that sensation "you will have a very warm feeling." They don't say where - my arm? my leg? my head? surprise that warm feeling is only in one place - the unnameable genital area. What they should say is "you will feel just like you are peeing yourself, but you are not, I promise."

There was only one other weird thing, they told me to keep my shoes on. So I was walking around in a hospital gown and socks and big old shoes. It felt wrong somehow. But I wasn't going to argue with the person who controlled how much tropical orange barium I had to drink.

So now I wait. I think it will be okay. I had a thought that maybe Dr B would call me tomorrow, but I don't know if he has to present my case to the tumor board or not. They meet of Friday afternoons. It's much more likely that I will find out next Tuesday when I meet with him in person. Pat and I were talking about it last night and this is what I came up with - if it's good news I want to know, if it's bad news I want to know. Better to know the bad news now and maybe we can do something about it than to wait any longer. I have this lingering pain about three inched above my belly button. It might be nice to know that it's 1) nothing, or 2) something to take care of.

Thanks for all the prayers and strong good thoughts. I will keep asking and asking. I need it.