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11:15a

I’m waiting here in the car for Dan to come out of the school with the children. The car is packed and we are headed to the big city. I wish we were headed in the opposite direction. Go south, old woman! Run away! Hurry.

No, I guess not today. Cowboy up, girlfriend. It’s only an MRI. They will put a headset on your ears filling your brain with some good old country music and you can jam out. You’re gonna be fine. Besides, the Valium is kicking in already.

Here they come! My crew. Time to get on the road.

********

12:00n

It’s a pretty drive this time of year. Some trees are turning shades of crimson and ocher with pinks and burgundies thrown in for good measure. On the other hand, the evergreens that Oregon is noted for are tinted with new greens of varying shades. It’s this contrasting color schemes that make this time in the Pacific Northwest worth the light rain that is plentiful. That and the fact that the reputation of constant rain cuts down on the tourists. In my humble opinion, they leave us just a bit too soon. But we don’t tell them that. It’s our secret.

The fishermen now, are a different story. When we left this morning, there were no less than a couple dozen empty boat trailers parked awaiting their craft’s return. The park is packed to the gills with wader-booted anxious sportsmen. They are not happy though. The salmon are late. What has delayed them is a subject for much debate. I have a feeling the fish all got together and had a great Salmon Conference.

“How can we get more of our brethren up the river this year?”
“Maybe during a great storm we could sneak past undetected?”
“No, these specific humans are too stupid to get in out of the rain!”
“It has even been rumored that some are camped out in cloth structures along the river bank.
“They even sleep on the wet ground.”
“Yes, they are determined and ignorant at the same time.”
“What can we do?”
“Do they live on the river bank?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why don’t we just hang back until most of the fisherman have gone on home and then make a dash up river all on one day?”
“Yes, I wouldn‘t mind hanging out here for a while. The water is still warm here anyway.”
“Yah, what’s up with that? Why is the water so warm?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“This waiting back, it will drive the fishermen crazy you know.”
“Yes, but they will probably blame it on George Bush and not us.”
“I never heard of a Bush named George. I once met a log named Bill. It had rolled off a Hill and made a big splash.”
“I don’t think we are talking about the same thing.”
“What do I know, I’m only a fish.”

Ah, I think I might have had enough Valium now.

********

3:15p
We got to the radiology and Imaging Department around 2:10. I was handed a clip board and took a seat with my “staff” circled around me. “Sit down. Not there. Get over here. Leave that alone! DON’T TOUCH THAT BUTTON! . . . Because it’s never a good idea to push a red button in a hospital! . . . Dan, make them behave!” The very nice lady in radiology came out to tell us that they were running an hour behind and they had removed all the toys from the other waiting room.

“It will be more like 4:30.”
“An hour behind? My appointment was for 2:30.”
“No it says here 3:30.”

Great. All this Valium will wear off by then!

“Maybe you might like to take a walk?”
“What about the chest x-ray? Can I get that done now?”
“Oh, let’s see. Yes I see an order for a chest CT.”
“Chest CT?”
“Yes, and that was scheduled for 9:30.”
“Tonight?!”
“No, this morning.”

Great. Mental note: when a scheduler make as appointment for a different department, call the actual department to confirm it yourself.

They were very kind though. They took me in for the chest CT right away. It took only five minutes. They gave us five $5 food vouchers. There’s Dinner. And a beeper. (I think they really were trying to get rid of us for a while.) Instead of going straight to the cafeteria, we went to make sure every thing was cool for the RV next week. Following the maze of road curving through the university, we found the spot where my family will be staying while I am in the hospital. It’s a parking lot with an electric pole. But it’s free. That’s a good price. Besides, I’m not staying there. . .

********

4:25p
Waiting. Still waiting. When you are chronically sick, you spend most of your time waiting. We are now in the waiting area outside of the tourture chamber MRI Department. I could have a nap. Maybe a nice nap in the tube. I can pretend that it’s some kind of new age architectural design. A sleeping tube.

I think I am going to pick up that phone over there and let them know that I am here and not wait for the beeper to go off. Besides, if they don’t hurry, this Valium will wear off and they will have a screaming fit on their hands.

I’ll let you know what they say.

********
9:00p
Oh, dear.
I was called in not long after I picked up that phone to let them know I was there. A male nurse with a female name inserted a line in my arm for the imaging fluid they use for the very last scan and then left me to sit for a few minutes while the tech got ready for me. I was very sleepy and I thought that would be a good sign. I really could sleep through it all. Maybe. “I need country music blaring through those headsets and I need my arms over my head with the escape button in my hand. And I need a pad for my bottom. I have a subcutaneous tumor on my left butt cheek. It’s big.”
“I think we can handle all of that.”
“Ok then, I guess I can handle it too.”

And I did. For about an hour of it. But the last. . . I don’t know how long exactly, I was starting to have a hard time breathing. The Valium was in fact, wearing off. And the pain in by backside and leg from the tumor being pressed hard against the slab was getting too much to handle. I was not able to move to relieve the pressure. I was losing ground fast.

“This next scan with take five minutes and then we will slide you out for the imaging fluids.”

Five minutes. I can go five minutes.
Five minutes is longer than I thought.
FIVE MINUTES MUST BE OVER BY NOW.
OH MY . . . I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE THIS!

“We are sliding you out now.”
“Oh, thank GOD. I am in so much pain! How long is the last scan?”
“Seventeen minutes.”
“I don’t think I can do seventeen more minutes. I don’t think I can go back in there at all.”
“No? You sure?”
“You have enough pictures right? It’s been over and hour! What will the imaging fluid show anyway?”
“Your doctor ordered it. I suppose if he needs it he can send you back here.”

I was so close. If it weren’t for the excruciating pain, I might have been able to get through it. I just couldn’t lay back down on that slab. I just couldn’t. I left the department trying to stop the tears that were rushing through my mind on their way to my eyes. I was so mad at myself. Mad at the tech for not providing a more comfortable padding. People go in that thing because there are problems with their bodies right? Who thought that a hard slab with a hard cage over someone in pain was a good idea. Those machines cost a fortune. Would it be too much to ask for them to add some padding? What would it take? Another couple hundred bucks?

As I came out of the wing, Dan was coming around the corner to check to see what was taking so long. As soon as I saw him, I lost it. I started crying. “I tried. I almost made it.”

“It’s ok, baby. If we have to we’ll come back tomorrow. Calm down. It’s all right.”

I remember once when I was about 8 or so, I fell on a half sunken dock and cut open my knee. I didn’t cry until I saw my mother. It was kind of like that. When I saw my husband, I was all waterworks.

By the time I made it back to the waiting room where the kids were it was well after 6:00 and everyone (except me) was starving. We made our way to the cafeteria and had dinner. It cost us $3.48 of our own money. Not bad.
I am spent. Poke a fork in me I’m done with this day. Tomorrow will be better, I pray. At least we can question Dr. House and get some idea of what’s to come.

I just want to all over. When will it be all over?

I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question. Not tonight anyway. Not tonight.