The Long Wait continued….. my thoughts on Thursday 9 April – afternoon….
After the scan – Over-thinking. Or interpreting?
So now I am over-thinking it all. And what’s worse – I knew I would.
The beeps. First of all, those electronic “beep” noises during the scan. The noise just like the one that sounds when an electronic message has arrived in my inbox. I don’t remember hearing beeps last time I had a bone scan. My overdriven mind says it’s an “oh here’s some cancer” alert. It’s far more likely that it is a tone to note the end of that bit of scanning. Try telling my mind that though.
Then the real over-thinker material, which comes as the scan comes to an end. The Doctor asks when I will see my referring Doctor at Samitivej. ALARM BELLS!! I reply, tomorrow or maybe today as I think he consults on a Thursday too. She says she will send the report over. Unless I want to take it with me, she asks”? I rewind back 2 years but with a tweak. Oh heavens no, I think. That would be agony, and I would be sure to open it eventually. Or much sooner. “If you give it to me I will read it”, I reply, and I think I add “and that might not be a good idea. It’s fine to send it over”. She says it will go over, but may take a little time. I must have displayed my fear. She added that it would take 2 – 3 hours after the results come back.
So this time, I do not have the report to look at in the waiting room, and do not wait for it. I do not have reassurance. Nor have I had to read bad news myself. In that open, waiting space where I feel so vulnerable and visible.
The tears came though, not in the waiting room this time. Firstly they came in the taxi, while the driver chatted on about water festival and traffic, seemingly oblivious to my minor meltdown. They came again in the lift as I headed up to my hotel room, and again on the phone. Tears of pressure and fear. I know I am over-thinking. I also know that I am steeling myself, based on the lack of reassurance immediately after the scan. I am sure that they had told me last time back in October 2012, even before I left the scanning bunker, to wait for the report last time, when the technician brought the report to me and I said that I was frightened. She said, then “it’s ok. You can read it”. She obviously couldn’t tell me outright but she nonetheless reassured me. That didn’t happen this time in the 2015 re-run. It could be because of what the scan images say, and that there is a problem. Or it could simply be that this is another Doctor who has a different way of working.
As I left the bunker, I looked over at the screen and the Doctor concentrating on the skeleton on the screen. I know that I am totally unequipped to interpret or understand anything, but am still ready to put my own interpretation to the picture. From the quick glace I could see a bigger area highlighted. Perhaps my full bladder? Perhaps something worrying at the base of my spine. Right where the pain is.
I walked out of the bunker.
I wonder whether I will get a phone call this afternoon or evening if there is unwelcome news, but in any case I know that in 24 hours or so I will know.
Right now, I am steeling myself for the worst. I feel that there are too many clues which are worrying and not enough reassuring signs.
But then again. Maybe I am just over-thinking again.
Friday 10 April, early morning
When I woke up on Friday morning, I forgot briefly that I was still “waiting”. Just for a second or so, but long enough for a cloak of confusion and darkness to descend.
The morning was long. I arrived in good time at Counter 2 and walked over to get my blood draw. Straight past friends I know well from Yangon. It is not easy to miss a family of 4, all of whom you know, but that says quite a bit about my state of mind.
And was I glad to hear those reassuring words from Dr W2 in his happy, flowery Songkran shirt. Glad, exhausted and at last I could stop thinking
Water vessels are being filled as I write this, preparations for the various Water Festivals and New Yearin the region. And I am retreating to be quietly thankful in a quiet healing place. Hiding from watery mayhem as I tend to do. Offline.
I will be back in a few days, but for now I am stepping away from the intensity of the past weeks.
Wishing all a refreshing Water Festival if you celebrate, and New Year of hope, health and happiness.
When I return to the online world, I plan to share some thoughts around my third word of 2015. Realise…. If I am brave, I will have some news to share.