Never Do Scans After Chemo

My oncologist decided that part of the followup of my symptom complaint is to run CT scans now (as opposed to in 3 more months) to make sure there is no cancer activity especially in light of the throat doctor's identification of new nodules in my neck area. Because of the delay in chemo, I am having to do scans right after getting Rituxan. So on top of no rest for the weary and the crunch of working during the 3 day window of feeling yukky, I am now forced to make Monday extra long by going for scans at 6 pm. Nothing to eat or drink 4 hours beforehand, so hungry and thirsty too.


The nurse brings me my 2 bottles of barium to drink, one 8 ounce glass every ten minutes until scan time. My portions are chilled and have a slight citrus flavor. I watch the TV monitors as CNN news reporters try their best to make mountains out of molehills, repeatedly reviewing every possible gory detail of a story no one really cares about, in hopes of creating shock and anger where no reaction is forthcoming. Two other scan victims in the waiting area are quaffing white gunk and ticking off the required eight rounds. Too bad there isn't some incentive for this like your hair gets stronger or your nails grow an inch.

I am full to almost nauseous when they finally call my name. I sit in another small room waiting for the machine to be available, then am taken back to my old friend, Joe Scanner. He has not changed one iota since last we met. I obediently climb up on his tongue and am dipped into the maw repeatedly so they can take pictures of my internal creepy crawlies. A quick ten minutes and I am free to slip my earrings back on and leave.

I consider getting dinner, now that its 7:30, but I am not up for it. In fact, I am aching everywhere. My legs are numb with neuropathy. My arms feel so heavy I can barely turn the steering wheel. I manage to get home, crawl inside and up the stairs and lie in bed wishing I had some magic wand to make the barium pass and the body stop hurting. I do not have a magic wand. Sugar snuggles next to my legs, sympathizing, but I push her away. Any little pressure is painful.

I take my Divine Hours book, turn to Monday compline reading, slowly whisper the words to myself. My hope is in God. I trust in God. He hears and delivers me from all my troubles. Lord, give me a peaceful night and a comfortable end of day. Be with me through the long dark night. Send your angels to watch over me until morning's light. And please let my body stop aching. Amen.

I set the book down. It is too painful to turn over, so I just lie still. Songs from my childhood float through my mind. My Lord knows the way through the wilderness. All I have to do it follow. Strength f0r today is mine all the way, and all that I need for tomorrow. I drift off at last.