Tuesday, February 12, 2013

stories we tell ourselves

Last post I laid out a scenario just to give myself something to measure reality against.  Now it's Tuesday more than a week later.  I'm having my MRI tomorrow, finally -- the original order never made it over to the imaging facility, so I had to call yesterday.  The scheduler was really great about getting me scheduled quickly, too: tomorrow afternoon, without and with contrast.  I don't know that I've done that before.

The interminable hold recording flaunts the facility's state-of-the-art equipment that is supposed to be both faster and more accurate. I hope it is less jump-out-of-your-skin startling, that would help.  We'll see. 

Another deviation from the expected: I have no follow-up appointment.  My endo will call me when she gets the results and let me know what she wants me to do from there.  I appreciate not having to spend another $50 co-pay just to get the results.

The problem with my little story is that the only person in it was me.  Yesterday I called my Mom at lunch time to tell her about my MRI appointment, and her speech was garbled and incoherent, like she was speaking a made-up language or talking backwards.  My sister was with her but it took some convincing to get her to the ER.  She's home now, but in the intervening 36 hours she's had a multitude of tests and my other sister had to deal with the mountain of snow the town plowed in front of Mom's driveway, as well as the skating rink that her front yard had become.  Fortunately Falmouth's weather has been warm during the day lately so some of Nemo's snow is melting off. 

Today we celebrated DS2's birthday, since tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, and he has soccer practice and piano lessons as well.  There's just too much going on and besides, DH and I will fast even though the kids are not yet obligated to.  Fast days aren't good for birthday parties, so we had a little Mardi Gras of our own.  It was a good dinner but a complex one, followed by his favorite brownies with vanilla glaze for his birthday "cake."

I feel sad but I'm wondering how much of that is actually just fatigue.  School's going OK, but I have to get back on top of my grading.  I miss my family and I worry about my Mom.  I'm nervous about the MRI itself and scared of the results.  I'm pretty sure when I had my recurrence my Tg was lower than it is now, but I'm not inspired to look it up.  I'll know by the end of next week anyway.

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