Today, I got a goodly handful of Ativan and then got jammed down the tube in the MRI department at the local cancer agency. I’ve said it before that, aside from another round of chemo, I would be willing to do most anything else they can dish out in that building if I could skip being jammed in the tube for an hour or so.
Today wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the best either.
After securing my arms at my sides and putting that crazy (‘just try to stay calm’) cage over my head, one of the attendants had a shot of spittle fly out of her mouth and land on my face.
And I couldn’t wipe it off. I was all tied up.
It was vulgar.
The people at my cancer agency are brilliant, except for the people in this department, who are more like poorly trained apes grabbing you and twisting you around and seemingly completely oblivious to why someone might hate being jammed in a noisy freaking tube where the lid is a quarter inch above the tip of your nose.
Perhaps I offended them when they asked, “Have you been here before?” and I said, “Unfortunately, yes.”
And so the pushed me in the tube and I was doing my ativan inspired mantra “keep it together, keep it together, keep it together” when I foolishly opened my eyes and saw the top of the tub less than an inch from my face and thought to myself, “Opening the eyes = not a good idea.”
So, then I just imagined I was here again, in spite of the ear puncturing noise all around me.
I hate MRI’s, but at least I only have to do them once a year.
Tomorrow, I will be doing a blogging workshop with the amazing Mary Bryson. I’d say y’all should come but I heard a rumour that it was all full up.
Sunday is the Winners Walk of Hope.
And next week, is big time appointments with all my oncologists at the old cancer agency.
And beyond that, I am taking the preliminary steps to investigate if I can go back to Costa Rica for a, possibly, permanent stay.
Who knows.
I try to not read too much into anything.
But I have known for a long time that the only thing left standing in my life that was there 4 years ago is my job.
When it came time to come home, I realized that I don’t have much here to come home to and that, in Costa Rica, I had more fun than I had had in years.
So, something needs to be different. The way things go in my town or the place I call my town.
Obviously these things take a long time to put into place, but it is interesting how much relief I feel when I think there is nothing in this town to keep me here. None of the old things work or exist anymore, so I am free to go create something that does work and that does make me happy.
Stay tuned.