Let's Hear It for the Boy

Andrew slept for seven hours straight last night! We have no idea when he'll accomplish such a feat again, but we sure appreciated it. It came at the best time, too, since I needed a lot of sleep to get the happy pills for the MRI out of my system. They made me very sleepy. And loopy, and all those good things that you need to be in order to deal with claustrophobia during and MRI.

The drugs almost weren't enough, mainly because I had spent the entire day getting worked up about what the MRI was going to find and because they had to go vein hunting again to hook up an IV for injecting some contrast for an image. So after they finally got the IV kind of in me (he got the vein, but not dead-on or deep enough to make anybody feel confident it was going to stay), I was NOT feeling the happy drugs. I had managed to put aside thoughts of cancerous tumors, but I was absorbed with thoughts of getting a few milliliters of contrast missing the vein and just pooling painfully under my skin instead. I managed to get just about all the way into the tube when I frantically started pressing that panic button. By then I was sobbing and hyper anxious over just about anything that crossed my mind.

I went back to the small private waiting area, got bundled up in warm blankets, got hugs and kisses from Mark and Drew, and tried to calm myself down. THAT'S when the happy pills finally kicked in. So I chilled for a half hour like that and they put me back in the tube, with headphones playing Enya and such. Everything was going fine until they gave me some funky breathing options for a few of the images. I could handle it when they told me to take a deep breath and hold it, but when they told me to take a deep breath, blow it all the way out, and refrain from breathing, that I couldn't do so well. Not sure what sort of impact holding all that glorious oxygen in my system versus expelling all the CO2 meant for the images, but one tech told me to hold my breath, and the other told me to blow it all out, so maybe it's just a personal preference. I do know that I had to have ruined at least two images because my lungs demanded I resume breathing.

And then there was the last image. The one that needed contrast. The injection started, and I promptly felt liquid spilling over my arm. I have no idea how much of the stuff actually got into my vein, but at least it didn't pool under my skin. Hopefully they got enough good images to see what they needed to see. I should hear about the results today or tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed, say a prayer, send happy thoughts. Between all the insanity of my health issues this year, my grandfather's struggle with lung cancer, my father's recent removal of a carcinoma on his cheek, and the loss of Little Quinn, I'm finding it hard to ignore my own mortality and remain optimistic--even despite the fact that every single doctor who's seen the initial CT image of the abnormality is damn near certain it's only a harmless fatty deposit.

But I did have a painless, problem-free eye exam this week. Healthy eyes, just getting a bit more nearsighted. So maybe I've turned the corner on the crazy medical stuff. Unfortunately, there is that dentist appointment looming next week. They'll take x-rays, the first I've had in two years. I already know I have a couple of cavaties in addition to that damn temporary crown. More crossed fingers, prayers, and happy thoughts, please, to ensure that they are ONLY cavaties and there's not need for another root canal due to the time those cavaties have had to set up shop.