A Day Without Needles

Hey, what happened to my flashback Fridays?

When I have an upcoming appointment scheduled (and the latest one was this morning at the university hospital) my whole self goes in to a semi catatonic state of mild dread. I don’t function well, unless you consider worrying to be a skill.

The funny thing is I don’t realize I’m doing it until there’s this rush of relief flooding over me when it’s all done and I’m driving home and the sun is shining and it’s Friday and the weekend and FRIDAY!  Oh yeah!  The flashback thing I started.

But first, finally I talked to a doctor who would like to try something different instead of repeating the same procedures in what has seemed to be a random fashion, always giving the same negative results.  So instead of doing yet another needle biopsy less than four months after the last double one, he did only an ultrasound this morning.  He is going to schedule me for a core biopsy instead because it removes a larger tissue sample on which they can do more tests.  And it involves a local anesthetic, and thus a needle but there were no needles today!

So until that’s arranged and the cycle of dread begins again, I feel light-hearted and anxiety free and in a mood to make fun of my hair styles over the years.

image image image
From age six to grade six to Teachers College graduation, the Dutch boy cut morphed to a bob with a Hollywood wave and then to a sleek whatever that is. Easy to look after mostly, and in the process of growing to acceptable hippy length standards.

In between somewhere there was this.

imageThe original cone head?  I can’t even.  But look at that swanky screen door with the big M.  I remember when we got that, thinking it was pretty nice, and a good backdrop for a photo I guess.  Who knows what all was going on in my pointy little head.

Hope you’re having a no needle Friday wherever you are, and whatever the state of your hair.  Don’t worry, one day you will get to the point where it’s just hilariously funny and doesn’t really matter that much anymore.  Except maybe to the people who have to be seen with you in public.  But that’s their problem.

Room Temperature

 

imageHaha!  That’s my feet sticking out from underneath a throw.  If you’re thinking I’ve run out of mesmerizing topics 13 days in to this January blog-a-day thing I’ve got going on, you might be right.

But I was sitting here in my 19 degree C house admiring my new fuzzy-on-the-inside socks when it occurred to me that they are worth sharing with the world.  Hey, it’s late and I’m tired, and I’ve had one of those days.  So you get sock sharing.

Early this afternoon I went for a follow-up appointment at the ENT Clinic at the University Hospital to discuss the results of the ultrasounds and needle biopsies on my neck.

The waiting room was crowded and hot and I had my winter coat over my arm for almost an hour.  My chair was right beside the reception desk so I got to hear many one-sided phone conversations from there and from rude people on cell phones, plus people talking and a hanging television screen had the sound on.  I’m always afraid in these situations that I won’t hear my name being called.  Then I imagined what it might be like to have a hearing aid and have all these sounds amplified.  Hell, more or less.

The thermostat in the exam room read 24.8 when I got in there.  Then it went up to 24.9.  When it reached 25 I imagined what it might be like to spontaneously combust.  At 25.1 I considered stripping and lying bare skinned on the floor tiles.  It was 25.3 when I left.  Gawd only knows what it’s at now.

I’ve been seeing Dr. Rizk.  And yes, it rhymes with risk.  Once again everything has come back with all kinds of horrible things ruled out, so we know what it isn’t, but nobody knows for sure what it IS.  Or what these lumps might develop into given time.  So my options are to keep showing up for tests and check ups ad infinitum or to have them surgically removed and be done with them.  He told me to go home and think about it.

I also got a flu shot today.  And some toiletries and these amazing slipper socks.  Never before in my life have I had a problem with my feet getting cold.  I’m that person who sleeps with her feet out from under the covers.  I have put bare feet in snow boots and not complained of the cold.  But lately things have changed.  Poor circulation maybe?  Every so often my feet will suddenly be freezing cold and I have to kick off my flip-flops and scrounge around for socks.

These new ones are perfect.  And yeah, gorgeous too. We turned the heat up to 20.  Because it’s winter and we are old. And possibly because W has complained once too often about being cold and I have suddenly developed some empathy on that subject.

And THEN (will this day and the recounting of it never end….) I looked up “room temperature” although what I really meant was ambient temperature and was astounded to discover Wikipedia says its 75 F or 24 C.  I am speechless.  How can anyone stand it that hot?

Okay, your turn. Tell me I’m cold-blooded and strange.  Or is it just where you live and what you’re used to and comfortable with that determines personal ambient temperature?

I’m going to bed now and these socks are coming off.  My feet feel like they’ve been in an oven.