Two Steps Away From Death's Door . . .

THIRD AND FINAL DR FOLLOW-UP APPOINTMENT ... WARNING - long-ass post

OMG ... this is going to be a post and a half, not only because of the experience I had today, but also because of the final pathology report. I canNOT tell you how incredibly impressed I am with this cancer center.

From the time we walked in the door, we were given first class attention, and didn't have to wait long for anything. After I gave the front desk concierge person my name, who checked it on her system to verify my appointment, we were directed to the waiting area which was just a few steps away, and told to watch a vertical TV screen for my name to pop up, along with which registration person I would be seeing.

The check-in for the appointment was rather quick given that I had spent about an hour online the day before creating my Patient Portal at their website and filling out a very lengthy questionnaire that was automatically transmitted to where it needed to go to add to my patient file.

This way I didn't need to spend time doing it at the cancer center which would have added a lot more stress. You would think that I wouldn't be stressed out any more given everything I've been through, but I guess I was a bit anxious to find out what the final pathology report said.

At any rate ... Mom and I weren't sitting in the waiting area too long at all before this crazy-ass woman named Anna came to get me to complete my registration.



I'll tell you what though, it wasn't long before I felt like I stepped into a futuristic environment. We completed the rest of the minimal paperwork in no time flat, and THEN ... she was reaching down below desk level on the left where I heard some sounds coming from and pulled out a white strip that ended up being the wrist band with my identifying information on it, HOWEVER ...

THEN she pulls out this thing that looked like a little monitor of some sort, and after she put a white band through it on the bottom, it ended up being attached to my left wrist. She called it a Patient Lojack ... meaning, that no matter where I went within the facility, they would know where I was at all times.



She was way too funny throughout this whole process, and actually made it more enjoyable, but I gave it right back to her, which only made her kick it up a notch or two, and she ended up telling me that she had her eyes on me.

The Patient Lojack (not really their official name for it) really comes in handy and works quite efficiently. If you're sitting in the waiting area and suddenly have to go to the bathroom when they come looking for you (which is always right after you head for the bathroom ), then they know where you are, even if you're on another floor, or down in the cafe' on the first floor having a Chai Latte.

Now get this ... besides the cool Patient Lojack ... she had me put my right palm over this thing on her desk that scanned it, and we did it twice ... why? Because if I go back to that facility, or go to the MotherShip ... what she calls the main cancer center location (LOL ... she's talkin' my language), then all I have to do is place my palm on one of the monitors inside the entrance area and it walks me through my registration to cut the time process down even more. It's all done through what's called my Patient Portal which I created at their website when I logged in to complete the long-ass questionnaire ... I'm not kidding ... it was loooooooooooog!

With all this modern technology going on with the Patient Lojack, the palm print log-in to my Patient Portal, and everything else I was experiencing, I was ready to ask where the Cyrene Ops Center was, or the Cyrene War Room.

And here's something rather cool ... when we went to the 2nd floor where my follow-up appointment was with the GYN Oncologist Surgeon, the waiting area came with a big bonus. Besides the usual big wide-screen TV that was easy to watch and hear, there was a little room off the waiting area with computers where you could actually sit and Google your heart out if you wanted (Anna's words) ... all hooked up to the internet and free, BUT ... I'm sure you know already that the minute you sit down to Bing something, they'd be callin' your ass.

I didn't have a long wait at all before this tall, stocky man with salt 'n' pepper hair and moustache and beard came into the waiting area in his tan/brown scrubs lookin' like a Wookie to escort me to my next location. Until he walked in, every interaction was with a female staff person. However, he was rather cool himself, so the experience continued to be quite pleasant.

He took my height, and I found out I'm actually 2 inches shorter than I thought I was (5'2" instead of 5'4" ... ya, ya, ya ... I'm a short sh!t ... so now I can't tease Kiri Hime so much any more (MAYbe), but will most likely still call him Shawty) ... and then my personal Wookie got my weight (we always love that, don't we).

I swear, the health facilities must get their weighing equipment from the same source, or at least have it calibrated at the same place, because all 3 of my Dr visits showed the same exact weight, BUT ... at least it was a weight loss, which has been happening pretty steadily for a while, but what the hell do you expect being in the hospital 75% of the time over the last couple of months. Besides, I was rather pleased to see that their digital scales showed the same exact thing that mine did at home, so at least I know it's accurate.

He took my pulse, which was the same as yesterday (82), but my blood pressure had gone up from what it was the day before (from 118/76 to 152/80). I'm sure it was from all the anxiety and anticipation from soon finding out what the final pathology report would reveal. Temperature was down to 97.1, so a bit lower than what is considered normal or average (98.6), but then everyone is different in that respect.

When my personal Wookie was done with me, a young lady came and got me and put me into my doctor's room to wait for her, but it wasn't long before her nurse came in to see me. After a few questions, she had me sit on this modern-looking bed that had been lowered almost to the floor, except for the base, which made it WAY easier to sit on ... I actually had to lower myself instead of stepping up to get onto it like the other offices.

OMG ... when I sat down I got a nice surprise ... the seat was heated. Now that's first-class if I say so myself ... I never experienced anything like that ever before, and now I'm damn spoiled. I rolled around all over the place, just to heat stuff that wasn't touching the seat. I had the nurse laughing.

After she covered my lower-half with a real sheet instead of one of those paper ones that fall apart if you frickin' sneeze or cough, she checked out my incisions, and then said my doc would be in shortly. She wasn't kidding, my doc came into the room less than 5 minutes after her nurse left ... everything was going along very smoothly and well-timed.

Well ... here is where I put my business out in the street, but that's fine, because I feel like we're family already with all that I've shared with you about this rather personal and a bit scary journey. The doc shared the final pathology report with me, but also gave me a copy, which is cool, and here are the results:

• I had an endometrial cancer tumor, and as a result ...
• my surgery was a total hysterectomy, meaning ...
• the factory was shut down, my clock cleaned, and the junk thrown out in the trash
• (those words actually came from my new MSR/MSM partner - Syer)
• the tumor was well-differentiated and located within the big "U"
• they got everything out and didn't need to bother with the lymphnodes because they were clear
• however ... the tumor mass was 5.5 cm, and that changes things a little

The doctor explained to me that even though I was in Stage 1 (which is incredibly lucky), and because the tumor mass wasn't 2 cm or smaller, I should consider getting what is called Brachy Radiation Therapy (I now call it Achy Brachy Radiation Therapy... I'll never be able to listen to that song the same way again ... oh come on, YOU know what song I'm referring to).

While it's recommended, it's actually a choice and I don't have to do it, BUT ... why the hell wouldn't I, because it takes the risk of it coming back down to 1% from the 5% risk that I'm at right now, SO ... during checkout (with the same crazy-ass woman who registered me), she faxed over all the information to the main cancer center location (the MotherShip), and said they would call me to set up an appointment.

With my situation, the treatments would be limited, and the only side effects would (maybe) be diarrhea, or a little bladder discomfort ... NO problem, especially with all I've been through the past year, and particularly these past 2 months.

However, before I got to checkout, they also scheduled a consultation with a dietitian/nutritionist (I just couldn't believe the service I was getting ... ya, I know ... they get to bill for all that stuff).

Anyway, she (another female ) discussed my eating habits, etc., and she said she would not change a thing because I was right on track, which I have been since early last year. Although, when it came to any vitamins and minerals I was taking, she said not to go overboard on the iron, because that can constipate you.

Well, since I've been on pretty much a planet-based program (<-- OMG ... just noticed the spelling error, but SO appropriate given my planet-based associations and living an alternate life in a virtual universe so I'm going to leave it for a chuckle) ... and with lots of fiber, fruits and veggies, I'm not having an issue.

One other thing though when I told her that I lost a decent amount of weight since last year, she asked if it was intentional ... I said yes, and that my treadmill and other exercise equipment got a good workout until I became severely anemic and had to stop.

Then she said that when the radiation treatment is set up, I should not do anything to intentionally lose weight, because that could be a byproduct of the radiation as well, and they don't like you to add to that during the time the treatment period is for ... interesting stuff ... my journey sure has been educational.

SO ... speaking of a crazy-ass woman ... after going through checkout, Mom and I went to the waiting area because Anna was going to check with my doctor to see if she had found a radiation oncologist doctor (or whatever they're called) on the premises to chat with me so that I didn't need to make the trip out East to the university location (MotherShip, remember), but ...

While Mom and I were sitting there and I was looking at my Patient Lojack (it hadn't been removed yet in case I had to go somewhere else in the center), I made the comment that it would be cool if I could actually take it home, and guess what? ... a creepy voice outside of the waiting area said ... no Lynne, you canNOT take your Patient Lojack home with you, and I have my eyes on you girlfriend ... OMG ... I had no idea Anna could hear me outside of the waiting room ... that was just too funny.

All was finally clear and we were able to leave because there wasn't anyone from radiation in the facility who could talk to me at the time, so I would have to wait for the MotherShip to contact me to schedule an appointment. Therefore, Anna came over and snipped my Patient Lojack off, and only gave a small snip on the wristband with my identifying information on it, because ...

It's a safety measure in case someone should fall in the parking lot and need help, or worst case scenario be rendered unconscious ... at least they would know who the person is in an instant. What a clever thing to do. She said I should wait until we're in the car to take it off, but ... I realized that I still had it on in the restaurant we stopped at afterwards so I could treat Mom to a late breakfast. It was easy to tear it the rest of the way through and take it off at that point.

I think Mom and I had been sitting at our table at the restaurant MAYbe all of 15 minutes when my cell starting ringing. It was the person at the MotherShip calling to schedule my radiation consultation. I have NEVER in my life experienced such efficiency and speed with which I have been taken care of by this organization, even though it's been brief.

BTW ... I also learned that my surgeon is one of the top notch female surgeons in my state, AND ... guess what? ... my Radiation Oncologist Doctor is yet another female ... my woman power medical team just keeps growing ... how the HELL can I lose.

With regard to follow-ups ... I have to see my primary doctor once a month, and then alter seeing my GYN and my GYN Oncologist Surgeon every 3 months ... as well as doing the radiation thingy, which I am electing to do in order to lower my risk to 1% for the cancer coming back.

Hey, I know this was a lot, but it's a continuing journey for me, and blogging about it in this thread is quite helpful overall. Maybe you're learning something from it, maybe not ... but I'm guessing you're at least learning a whole lot more about me as a real person, instead of just MS9, although my real self shines through MS9 in a big way, so I guess there's not too much of a difference there, except for also learning how I cope with all of this stuff.

It's special friends like I have in this universe of ours that express genuine friendship and caring that inspires me to do more, and to not hang myself out to dry in spite of all that I've been through so far. I can't tell you how much that means to me, and how precious these friendships are ... I will always cherish them.

I think that's enough, and since I've probably burned out your retinas with this wall of text, go use some eye drops and get the red out ... give them a rest, and don't go out into the wild and fight the beasts until they're clear.

Thanks again for all the support you've given, it means a lot.

Since my journey isn't quite done with this business, I'm going to keep the thread open longer, but you certainly have a choice as to whether you want to read any of it or not.

Much love, respect, and hugs to all of you ... for real ... sorry, I'm a little mushy right now due to once again realizing how incredibly grateful I am, because the outcome could have been so much worse.

 

Thanks Hon ... hugs are always appreciated.

Thank you my precious friend ... humor has always been my way of coping, and it works for me. I make great effort to accept and view my situations from a perspective that keeps me away from any "poor me" attitudes, or engaging in pity parties for one, because it serves no purpose whatsoever other than to cause stress and displace that negativity onto others which is not fair at all.

I don't want people to feel sorry for me (ever), or interact with me in a way that drags the situation down even further, but rather appreciate the celebration of the educational process and how I'm dealing with it. Also, life is too precious to dwell on any negative aspects of your life, even though they may cause challenges that frustrate us and make it a bit more difficult. I know it's easier said than done, but ...

There's a mind/body connection that definitely has an effect on our health, especially when it comes to stress, and I've had enough of that already, so I feel I deserve a little peace over it all. What we think not only affects our health, but also motivates or inspires how we behave, and I'm choosing to exercise more calm in my life, as well as how I handle any issues that may come my way.

When I found myself knocking on death's door, and how close I came to checking out, it had a profound effect on me. I started thinking about all those words of wisdom that I shared with my students to help them think differently about their lives and their choices in order to become more effective. It's one thing to be a behavioral analyst, counselor, and ultimately a psychology professor passing on the wisdom learned over the years, but if I don't follow my own teachings more than I already do, I'm not helping myself either.

Yes, experiences like this absolutely change your perspective, but I realize it's different for everyone. For me ... while my approach to life is still basically the same, the level of awareness, the intensity, and the choices I make in how to handle things have all been polished so my vision is much clearer.

Despite what I have yet to experience in this episode of my life, I am considering myself an extremely lucky individual ... because as I mentioned earlier, this could have been a whole lot worse, and I am tremendously grateful it wasn't.

and backatcha Jack ... love and miss ya much.

 

I was definitely ready to stay and make some more discoveries (ok, I was ready to play more), but they took my Patient Lojack away from me... and there was no way I was going to get away with running around the halls. I'm wondering if I'm going to experience some more space-age stuff at the MotherShip when I go for my radiation consultation later this month.

For now, I'll live vicariously through MS9 and her covert operations series with the Senator. I love that Ed works on the story arcs with me, and gives me the freedom to be creative in how I reveal the exclusive "official" storyline he shares, so I'm sure there will be more space-age stuff popping up here and there.

 

ACTIVATE RADIATION SHIELD - I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR ASSES OBLITERATED

That sounds rather dire, doesn't it, but it's actually not.

I had my radiation consultation today and added yet another awesome female doctor to my magnificent medical team. I just couldn't be happier, because from my primary doctor, to my regular GYN, to my GYN Oncologist (surgeon), and now my radiology doctor, these women are top notch.

No other time in my life have I ever been treated so well, or so thoroughly, although I was a bit disappointed with the MotherShip today where I had to go for my consultation. Looks like the satellite facility I went to before (which is closer to my home actually), is the "beta tester" (I figured you'd understand that term) for all the Star Wars high tech stuff that I experienced, and if all goes well, then it will be implemented at the MotherShip.

Meaning ... I couldn't use my palm print to sign in for my appointment, and I didn't get my Patient Lojack, AND ... the seat wasn't heated. HOWEVER, they redeemed themselves with complimentary (free) valet parking right in front of the entrance, which is actually inside the parking garage - that was pretty impressive.

HERE'S THE DEAL

I had 3 choices:

• do nothing and just monitor my situation over time
• have low-level local radiation in the Fun Factory (which is internal - inside out)
• have low-level radiation in the pelvic area (which is external - outside in)

The first choice I eliminated right away, especially after hearing a more in-depth reading of the final pathology report. Meaning ... I didn't know that a sampling of tissue was not taken from the surrounding lymphnodes, and I also didn't know that the cancer cells had actually traveled 25% into the inner wall of the Big U. They get more concerned when it's at 50% or more, so it wasn't a major issue, but ...

Also listed on the final pathology report was the fact that there was about a 25% chance that cancer cells could recur in the lymphovascular system (I think that's what it is - going from memory, but it's pretty crowded up there right now), and if I chose the second option, that area would not receive any of the radiation. I was told that recent studies show that 75% of any recurrence usually happens in the walls of the Fun Factory, but ...

Since it was noted in the final pathology report about the lymphovascular system, to me there's only one direction to go with this so that both areas are covered. Besides, it's a more pleasant experience being that it's from the outside in, and I will be in no discomfort at all. Needless to say ... I opted for plan #3.

However, rather than just 3 treatments with option 2, option 3 is 25 low-level treatments of 15 minutes a session. I have to do them every day (Monday thru Friday). I have a follow-up appointment on March 5th which marks the 6 week point since my surgery (today is exactly 4 weeks), and will have a pelvic exam to make sure everything has healed properly, as well as go through my Simulation (which is not a treatment) where they do a CT scan and map everything out, and set up the template that will be used for each treatment.

I asked if the doctor could give me an idea of what the machine looked like and how it was all done, and guess what? There was actually one of the 5 machines available, so she took me into the room and explained every little detail (I'll spare you), and I was able to get a photo, not only of the machine, but of the latest doctor added to my rockin' all-female medical team.

How would you like to dance with THIS monster!




And here's my new medical team doctor!



If all goes well during my appointment on March 5th, then I will begin treatment (I believe) the following Monday and continue until I've gone through all 25. At least I don't have to do it on the weekend, AND ... the good thing is (and I DO consider it a good thing), the side effects will be minimal ... which will be possible loose poop (not gonna take time to look up the spelling of the proper word), and burning or irritation when peeing ... I know, probably TMI, but deal with it.

I also consider these updates educational, and I can't help but believe that whoever is reading this, they will in some way learn something. May not apply to them, but at least I am expanding your mind, yes?

I am told that it's rare that there are more extreme side effects, but the other thing I will most likely experience is fatigue, but hey ... I need to continue catching up on my sleep anyway (Dear Ed - I can still write, no worries ) .

Also, the doc said that because I am otherwise in really good health, I should be able to weather this better than average for sure. I will have a consultation again with a dietitian to assist in what to eliminate from my eating plan temporarily to help minimize the first side effect I mentioned, and anything else I should be aware of.

The last words from the doctor put everything into perspective. She said that because my cancer was grade 1 and slow growing, and that there wasn't a big invasion, or any spreading ... it's 95% curable. Can I get an AMEN up in this piece please, because that makes me (once again), one lucky and extremely fortunate lady.

Mom was able to sit in on the consultation with me and get the info first hand, and when the doctor mentioned that I would be going through 25 treatments and would have to come every day except the weekend, my Mother said ... does that come with a gas card? ... OMG, the doc and I just about fell off our seats.

That's my day in a BIG nut shell, and to be honest ... I'm not anxious about all of this in the least ... especially when the end result will take my percentage risk of the cancer returning down to 1% from what I learned is at 15% right now. I just couldn't ask for more under the circumstances.

I am grateful, and feel blessed.

 

Thank you my friend ... and if I may say ... I am quite excited about all of this and the way it turned out. I just couldn't imagine it any worse, but ... if it had been worse, I would have approached it all with the same attitude and perspective, because it does me no good to get crazy about it and stress myself out. It would only make the situation worse.

Life throws us a curve ball now and then, and our only choice is to do nothing, or bat the bitch outta the park ... and I'll choose a home run every time.

I hope all is going really well for you too. Please do keep us updated on your progress if you're comfortable doing so. You've taken the first step, which is the most important of all.

My very best to you too Hon!

 

No worries about what you posted at all ... it's appreciated. In my professional experience over the years, even after I started teaching psych at the college, people seem to be fearful of sharing information, but mainly because they place SO much importance on the opinions of others and don't want to be judged. It's a shame that our social environment teaches us this, and is a learned behavior, but it is what it is.

As long as we don't use the esoteric teachings as escape mechanisms, or in any way lose or withdraw from reasonable action on the plane of human living, then we can recognize real need and benefit. Achieving enlightenment is a journey, and for those more inclined to do so, it's a journey worth experiencing. A LONG-ass journey, but ... as I've said in the past, I don't want to ever be finished, or reach some final destination, because I'm having WAY too much fun ... and besides ... the journey can be just as exquisite as the destination.

 

Well, I didn't really have anything to update everyone with until after I had my visit with the radiology doctor, which actually ended up being rather educational for me. I never thought I'd be in a situation like this, but then we never know. Even the person who takes the best care of themselves can face the "C-Demon" as I call it, so we're never really sure what life will throw our way.

Glad you learned something about esoteric studies ... it's not for everyone of course, but I tend to believe that at some point in time in a person's life they become more tuned-in to themselves and can appreciate a higher level of quality in the way they approach the universe ... not necessarily our universe, but the universe overall.

Enlightenment is one path, but enrichment as Viper relates to it is quite beneficial, and what I derive from it in a great way is the peacefulness within that allows me to be more grounded, and able to exhibit a better level of decision making. Of course, everything isn't ever perfect, but it makes life easier to digest.

 

QUICKIE UPDATE

Had my follow-up with my primary doctor this week, and it seems my hemoglobin level is holding steady ... well, steady for me that is. After surgery on Jan 23rd, it went up to 11.4, and as of this week (almost 6 weeks later), it's at 10.3, so nothing really to be concerned with. However, they are going to continue monitoring it for sure.

This coming Monday (Mar 5th), is the big day for the CT scan and creation of the radiation template, but I got a call from them as well that they needed me to come in an hour earlier for blood draw. When I mentioned that to my primary doctor, she gave me a note to give to them to include all the things they should be checking for!

She's such a pitbull that one, but she said "Dammit, you've come a long way from almost checking out, and I don't want to take any more chances - you're my miracle, and I want to keep it that way!" I'm grinning, but she's serious, because she made it perfectly clear to me that she has never seen anyone who was in my condition on Dec 7th survive. Like I said, I'm one helluva lucky lady for sure.

Gotta love her for the loyalty to preserving life, but I have a magnificent all-female medical team that just simply rocks, and I couldn't have asked for anything better. I'm in good hands all the way around, and after my 25 radiation sessions, I'm going to be down to 1% risk of that crap coming back, and ready to kick some serious ass ...

I'm just sayin'

 

SIMULATION MY ASS - THIS WAS A SNEAK ATTACK

I'll have to paint a canvas with my words (and smilies), because I was unable to get photos this time around, and Mom couldn't come into the inner sanctum with me, so she held all my stuff while I was having fun.

I think I got punked or something, because when the nurse came out to get me from the waiting room where there were quite a few people, she called my name and directly thereafter said ... let's go get you set up with the IV for the die contrast ...

... she HAD to have said something different, right? ... NOPE

... nobody told my damn ass that there were going to be needles involved whatsoever, so ... my immediate response was ... oh ... I thought the people in the room were going to lose it.

This visit was going to be the simulation, and a process to set up the template for when I actually start the 25 radiation treatments ... which it was, but it seems that the full agenda wasn't disclosed. They pulled a fast one on me and added a bit of this, and a bit of that, which blew my anticipated experience right out of the water.

First, I found out that my radiology doctor wasn't going to do the pelvic exam to see if everything was healing properly (oh get over it - it's not like you haven't heard this stuff before ), but that was scrapped, and I soon discovered that there were other things on their agenda with this simulation.

When I finally got out of my seat in the waiting room and followed the nurse down the hall, a young man in blue scrubs came out of nowhere and was walking in front of us. The nurse walking with me said ... that's Drew, he's on the team for the simulation ... I immediately stopped dead in my tracks and said ... not gonna happen ... obviously she was a bit surprised by it.

I said ... I don't mind the older male doctors so much if I don't have a choice, but given what I was about to go through, I was rather uncomfortable with Drew (who looked like he was barely out of high school) assisting with some of the stuff that would go on, especially some of the more personal/private area stuff ... (I was just too uncomfortable with it, and meant no disrespect whatsoever, but I know she knew that).

once again ... and they knew I wasn't kidding, so they swapped him out for a female technician and I was ready to move ahead. Perhaps if he was a bit older I might have reconsidered, because he WAS cute (oh geez, that sounded SO porn - scratch that).

At any rate, I first ended up in a room and asked to sit in a nice reclining chair, where I soon discovered a flat-screen TV up on the wall in front of me ... Gray's Anatomy was on ... JUST what someone wants to watch when they're about to get stuck with a needle.

This lovely-looking nurse came up to me and said that she was going to set up my IV, and then further explained that it was to inject the die for the second pass-through with the CT scanning to help line everything up and map the radiation area.

Well, she was sweet and fun until she couldn't find a vein in either arm that would work, and after getting stuck 3 times without success, they called in my doctor's nurse to give it a shot. She got it in the first try and it ended up being on the top of my left hand, which is where the "big guns" at the hospital finally had to do it when 2 nurses just couldn't get it done.

Funny thing is, the lab tech in the blood draw clinic just 30 minutes earlier had NO problem whatsoever finding the vein in the crease of my right arm when I had to have blood drawn first before the simulation. The nurse even tried to use the same location and couldn't get it to work

I don't easily give up the red stuff.

There was a bit of entertainment that went on though while my doctor's nurse was inserting the needle for the IV ... it's a bigger needle, and the top of the hand is quite sensitive, especially after I've had so many damn needles in it already since Dec 7th, so ...

When she inserted the needle at first it wasn't too bad, BUT ... when she started going deeper ... holy CRAP ... and that was when I started blurting out ... Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh ... in a rather melodic way I surmised, because a short and cute female lab tech decked out in bright yellow scrubs came out of a cubby hole from somewhere and started dancing in the middle of the floor and singing ... Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh ...

Apparently, how I uttered the "Oh's" is part of some song, and the lab tech echoed almost exactly the "Oh's" in the same way I did, but I can't remember which song it was from. OMG ... everyone in the room was laughing their asses off. I must have unconsciously remembered that part of the song, who knows ... anything is possible with me.

Once the IV was set in place, they carted me off to a room where I was introduced to the CT scanner, which is one of those big round thingys that they slide you through, BUT ... there was a bit of prep work to do before that happened.

In a nutshell ...

• I had to lay on a special bed
• my legs were contained in some type of (I think) gel molding stuff that hardened to keep them in place - I was laying down so I couldn't see
• had a rubber ring to hold onto on top of my chest to keep my arms still
• they did some initial mapping first, but not before a female doctor came in to add a little sumpin' sumpin' for better mapping of a certain area ... give me a damn break ... I had to ask if this was part of the REAL treatment sessions, and they said no ... it's just to map everything ... I never thought my stuff would be put out there on a map, but oh well
• after the first pass-through, they added the die for the contrasting and to line everything up better, but OH OH OH ...
• then I got tattooed ... they put an ink dot at a North, South, East and West location, and used a needle with each dot to set it ... for real ... but it actually didn't hurt at all, so I didn't have to bitch-slap anyone
• these tattoos are for the lasers to line up when I actually go through my treatments

When all of that was done, I was able to get myself back together and leave the premises. They're going to call me to set up the start of the 25 sessions I have to go through, and I was told they'll work out a time with me, which is good, because I have to travel a longer way to the MotherShip than the satellite location.

At least I know the process with the sessions will be easier, because all the prep work has been done, and it'll be a matter of laying on that table seen in my previous post with the HUGE-ass machine I showed you for 15 minutes each time, and let the monster circle around and blast me.

Not anything I haven't experienced in EU with laser rays ...

​

ND's wedding - I was part of the wedding party!​

SilverFox provided the laser light show!​

Skalman (behind me) and Pollus (in front of me) just looked on,​

while ND's bride danced her ass off.​

See, I'm old hat at this stuff, so it should be a walk in the park!

After Mom and I left the MotherShip we stopped at one of my favorite restaurants (Red Lobster), and had an early dinner since it was getting later in the afternoon. Was a long time since I had been there, and I had me some rock lobster tail, grilled shrimp, and crab and lobster mac 'n' cheese, which I brought home ... it was all one menu dish, and way too much to eat. So there's leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Needless to say ... my medical treks have truly turned out to be some adventures, but perhaps it's because I keep a positive attitude about it, and don't let myself slip into that gloomy state of mind. Not sure how all of this is going to go, but I'm actually not hyper about it at all ... UNLESS ... they decide to punk my ass again with a few surprises along the way.

All in all, I actually think it's going to be pretty straight forward from here on out, so I shouldn't have any surprises, AND ... now that the launch of Cyrene has been delayed a little, it will give me an opportunity to get all of this out of the way, and actually get more of my official writing done, along with doing more prep work with MSR/MSM in anticipation of what Syer and I will be doing.

That's it for this update ... I know you didn't expect a Reader's Digest condensed version ... I don't know how to do short.

I'll be back with another update when there's something to report.


EDIT:

Just as an FYI ... the auto-save feature of the forum if you should not finish a post and the browser closes works beautifully, BUT ... if you have uploaded any photos, you lose them all, so this was rather frustrating given that this was a long post with quite a few appropriate smilies to give it extra emphasis, but I couldn't remember all of what I used that I uploaded off my hard drive, so this post is what it is.

Just wanted to mention this here, but will definitely make a post in the feature thread as well to alert our admin.

 

What are we EVER going to do with you!

You are a trip and a half my dear Alien, but you make it fun.