Today is a all we ever have
Today is a momentous day, a day of testing, and yet, just another day. I go for my first post-op scan today. I started this morning with a barium cocktail, not too bad, slight citrus taste, a bit fizzy, I think. I take another one in one more hour. I set the timer so I don't forget, or miss it.
Then, at 8:30 Daddy and Rae and I will trundle off to the Clinic center in Willoughby for the scan. It isn't much, and, in itself, is not worrisome. I will change into a gown and they will inject more dye into me. Then for about 20 minutes I will lie on a cold, hard, narrow table while a huge piece of machinary spirals around me, taking images. I will be excused, will redress and leave, to go on with my day. I have to stop and get some groceries (don't let me forget to put TP on the list), come home and eat breakfast. (No, the barium cocktail doesn't really count as breakfast. I want some real food.)
And so life will go on as normal. Daddy is working this weekend, Rae has a wedding to go to on Saturday, Cindy and I are going on our road trip. But my mind will be spinning, wondering what they will find. And not being happy with whatever the results are. If they find something, I won't be surprised, but I will be very sad. It will make certain what I have feared since first receiving my diagnosis. If the scan shows nothing, I am afraid that I will fear that it is just a matter of time. It will be nice to know the time is a bit longer, but . . . It just seems to raise even more questions. When will the other shoe fall? How much longer?
I really am trying to life my life one day at a time. Frankly, this test (and the whole doctor scene) gets in the way of that.
On a lighter note, Daddy, Rae and I rode our bikes down to St. John Vianney's for their festival last night. I went to the kitchen to see Bev Martino. She is well and it was so nice to see her. We had a good time. Rae and I went down the big slide together. You have to climb up a rope net to get to the top and then they give you a potato sack to make you slide faster. Rae went faster, but I went farther. This is me living in the moment! And I will have pictures from our weekend to post.
Comments
Hi, Maman!
I just want you to know that I love you and miss you and hope you're going to be okay.
If they look, and find nothing, this is unmitigated good news.
As a side note, I saw the title of this post in my RSS aggregator and just about had a heart attack. For the love of God, Maman, that's a scary title!
Your son,
Nathan
Posted by: Nathan Dornbrook | July 7, 2006 12:28 PM
I hear you, maman. One day at a time can be tough. I love you.
Posted by: Mendon | July 9, 2006 4:15 PM
Hi Maman - I hear you, too. I definitely want to hear about your holiday!
Posted by: Mara | July 11, 2006 1:53 AM
Sorry, I din't mean to worry any of you. I was just reminding myself to live today. It was good to visit the ocean again. I didn't take very many photos, but will look at them this weekend, probably Sunday. I'm going to go play with Heidi on Saturday. And I will let you all know what the doctor says today. I promise.
Posted by: Ma | July 12, 2006 10:15 AM