PROGRESS REPORT

I SUPPOSE having dragged you along with me this far, medically, I need to let you know what's happening, insofar as I know, which isn't much. 


Mr. Bob came through his fifth three day session of chemo, with only one more month to go. After that, it's my understanding that there will be x-rays, an MRI or is it a CAT scan? You'd think I'd know the difference, but I don't. If the results show that the chemotherapy was successful in shrinking the tumor, then Mr. Bob will undergo radiation. He decided he needed oxygen yesterday after weeks without it, because when he bent to slide some photos under a resident's door, he saw spots before his eyes. This morning he opted to stay in bed rather than meeting our friends for our ritual weekly breakfast.


On Friday I had appointments at two different hospitals. The one in Pasadena has a more advanced Breast Center, so that's where I was directed for the MRI. My second visit there was for an ultra sound and possibly a needle core biopsy. There are times that a vivid imagination works against one and Friday's appointment was one of them. I was given a reprieve from the biopsy for now, but was told to schedule another MRI, in the midst of which, a biopsy will be taken. Now my creative mind is conjuring up an image of a mechanic lying on the ground, working on a car, for a breast MRI requires the patient to lie, face down on a table with the mammary glands tucked into holes in the table. (I never, ever in this world thought I'd be talking to you about such matters......I'm of the school that would prefer to confer with doctors by use of a Chinese medicine doll whereby the modest lady would point to the area of the malady.)

Or maybe the table is hoisted in the manner of an automobile at the mechanic's; either way sounds like something I'd rather not experience.


Next we sped across town to the other hospital.....the one up on a hill where I revisited the radiology department. The technician who had taken my chest x-ray earlier in the week happened into the waiting room (where I had reported the M&M / pill under the chair, which by the way was no longer there). He recognized me as a recent patient so I asked him how many clothes I had to remove for the x-ray of my lower back. His answer was, "Down to your skivvies." I ask you, when did you last hear that Navy term?


It turned out that a lady named Jennie did these x-rays. The table was high and the footstool to it measured about the same as my foot. I got myself onto it and then Jennie said, "Now turn around. Take your time." Next time I'm going to answer that with Carol Burnett's line and say, "OK, while I'm doing that you try to pull your lower lip up over your head." I hope that made you laugh.....it's the sort of mirth that makes Tim's presence so precious to me.


The male technician remembered that I'm documenting the experience and even thought to include me when we captured an image of Jenny. The possibility of that hadn't entered my mind. I'm trying to remember to think of these bumps in the road as good blogging opportunities. Eventually I do, but often it's when the Kodak moment has passed.

“The colder the x-ray table 

the more of your body is required on it”