Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Yesterday was a scan and consult day, and for many hours, it was quite a lovely day. The weather was stunning, there was a nurse who was ever so happy she could take shortcuts with me instead of going through the usual rigmarole of explaining the process (I suspect she got a longer tea break because she could cut corners with me), a new guy controlling the MRI scanner (my usual lady was off on holidays) with whom I talked about helium expanding and exploding, and everything was very relaxed and went like clockwork. I met my sister afterwards, and we had lunch at an excellent and very atmospheric place that made the yummiest gourmet pizzas before heading off to my consult, both of us brimming with optimism, because I felt fine, everything went so well last time, and I was quite proud of my stamina and wellness. Mind you, the writer in me recognised a classic setup for fall and kept pointing it out to me, but I repeatedly told her to shut up. Hubris, schmubris!
Alas, the writer in me was right and things went downhill from there. The hospital head honcho was at the consult, which was a big enough surprise, and she basically informed me that although I had beaten the odds last year and impressed all and sundry with my swift recovery (not that it felt swift), well, I was going to have to try and beat the odds again - not news even remotely close to what I wanted to hear. It was about this time last year I started having tests and such and the medical fun started, and to find myself twelve months later facing another round of surgery and treatments, well, I'm not, as you can imagine, terribly keen on saddling that particular horse and charging into into that particular valley again, especially since I'm feeling far better and more energetic that I have for a long time. Last year I was begging them to slice me open just to get rid of the pain. Now, although I'm not running at 100%, I feel fine, active, together, clear-headed, organised, and was planning to busy up my life and do more. I was most certainly not planning to become a patient again. I mean, I'm putting in time at the Arvo Job, I'm reading and writing and socialising, I'm doing push ups and tummy crunches, doing workouts with weights, walking vast distances and riding horses. Those blah days were behind me, I thought. And yet I must do as they say, to preempt what will become a bad situation if we don't act now.
So 2013 is looking like a repeat of 2012. Yippee-ki-yay.
I've spent today absorbing this turn of events. People have been great - my sister is texting and is on hand to talk at any time, and my brother dropped by for tea, a chat and some strategising. Ah well, time to buck up, put on my stoic hat, thrash those odds, and remember to be grateful I live in a country that takes care of these things.
And in between, I shall keep the writing flowing (I'm better prepared this time).