Hospitals
So, the scan. Same boring routine. Into the hospital, up to Nuclear Medicine and greeted by the same girl as last time. Weighed, measured, and then radioactive material injected into my veins. Or at least that's the theory! The reality? Four jabs at my right arm and each time the veins came up empty. It took us half an hour to finally inject the serum. And how strange is it to have someone holding a lead lined syringe of radioactive material which they are injecting into my veins! An hour then of lying on a bed before an hour and a half in a low ceilinged cylindrical tube.
As the material is taken up more quickly by cancer cells, you aren't allowed to move for the entire time so as not to disrupt the material. That makes an incredibly boring two and a half hours staring into space. Even listening to music or reading a book would alter the results.
And then I emerged, and I looked at the waiting room: a room full of men and women over 40 years older than me. A room full of grandmothers and fathers, a room of cancer victims, true, but they are lucky enough to have seen their children grow up, have grandchildren and be there for them. I was so very jealous and pangs of self pity pricked my eyes.
It was so very strange. For the last two months I have been living a reality which today I saw wasn't my real life. My reality is and will be hospitals, scans, and appointments. I really, really don't want that. It feels so bloody unfair: 42 and condemned to a life of appointments, scans and doctors.
When I returned to school, I felt really shaken and strange. My hearts is in living, but my emotions are in illness and dying. I don't know where I am, where the 'real me' is. I don't know what my future holds.
Shaken in deed, word and feeling.
Minerva
12 comments:
Sorry to have lost a few days with you due to a power outage from an ice storm...
I had a scan like this a few years ago. The barely 20 something told me it was my fault he missed the vein 3 times because I was too fat. Another nurse overheard him, made him hand over the dye syringe and she got it the first time.
I was lucky, they weren't tracking cancer but trying to find a back injury...still, lying in that tube for what seems an eternity and trying not to move at all is really so hard to do!
The reality you speak of is so very unfair and I wish I could trade you for it...to give those extra years you seek.
Hugs...
alan
You are right. It is unfair. As I said, alot of people think that being a ministers wife I should encourage prayer, faith, etc. And I do believe in that. But that aside, I still think its unfair. The proverbial question......why do bad things happen to good people? I've never really heard anyone satisfactorily as far as Im concerned answer that question. I will say you are a inspiration and I love to read your blog, but I also know you would give anything not to have this situation to blog about. Still.......I think you're so cool(:
Thanks for visiting. I think you are incredibly brave going through all this. I don't think I could do it... all strength and power to you as you focus on the things that give life. Love, Su
Best hugs Min. I guess over time these two realities will learn to coexist in some way. I can quite understand how the 'real' you seems to have gone missing - how can you straddle such conflicting experiences, of life vs the threat of death?
I don't know the answer to that...all I can think is to try and 'be' whereever helps you most, and gives you most peace inside.
m, I am thankful that you are much younger than the others receiving scans, I think your youth will serve you in the area of fight, determination and stamina. Your journey continues, as it must, because so much is depending on your recovery, and health.
It's cr*p. Innit?
Hi, I just wanted to leave a little comment to say that I was thinking of you. I've been reading your blog for quite awhile now. Thank you for your honesty about your journey. It always gives me a lot to think about. Will be waiting with you to find out the results.
There is someone I know of that is going through this; would it be ok with you if I gave her your blog address?
It just plain stinks! I wish I could do more; offer you an ear to listen, a hand to hold or a shoulder to punch. But, let's face it, it's a little difficult to do that from California. Instead, know that your honesty is greatly admired and you are in my thoughts daily.
Dear Minerva...I think that it is unfair too.
I don't even know what to say to you other than I feel your pain..not in the cancer because I don't really understand it but in the pain of your loving your children so much and that you want to be with them.
I think that you are so brave when it comes to the tests that you are taking but so much hurting in regards to your children.
The only thing that I can do is pray for you.
Your blog and your commenters are so special.
That Alan is such a sympathetic guy..willing to trade places with you.
I think that mean man should be fired for saying such a nasty thing to him..
I am praying that the 21st will hold only good news for you Minerva...Love Terry
It's painful, the way we can tell ourselves what's not fair and yet, the universe doesn't seem to accomodate that, which, in itself, makes it even worse.
Recently, I shared your blog once again with a writing group of mine. You are encouraging more people than you know.
Thinking of you.
It's terrible indeed. If illness were fair though, we'd be in a better world indeed with only those that deserve it getting ill.
You'll have to tread the dreadful line of finding the balance between the two realities though. Your entire world will only become hospitals and tests and the like if you ignore the moments in between that make it all worth fighting for.
Take heart and know that we are with you for whatever comfort that it may bring you.
When it gets rough you need to do what the kids do and go for a hug. They'll be happy to hand them out I'm sure.
Could you choose a different reality? Could you think the unthinkable?
Could you start here???
http://www.pennybrohncancercare.org/indexecde-2.html?o=1444
Namaste
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