Standing tall

I just got home a couple of minutes ago from my latest PET scan, and I can give people this advice. If you're ever going to have one, go sleepy. If you're lucky, like I was today, you'll be able to doze off during the scan and that makes it go much faster. Before I dozed off, I mused about the similarities between the scanner tube and the beginning of the Space Mountain ride. If you've never ridden space mountain, the roller coaster begins by ascending up the tracks through a tube illuminated by lights that circle the circumference of the tube. It's supposed to make you feel like you are being warped into space and it is frankly quite fun. So too does the scanner have a tube and spinning lights...but if you look into the light of the laser it will burn your retina, so that is highly not recommended. In other words, if you have a choice between the two, choose Space Mountain.

I titled the blog "Standing Tall," because my urge was to really name it "Fetal Position." My natural human inclination would be to curl up in a fetal position out of fear of my scan results. I know that there are better odds that it is going to be ok, but I am scared. I am trying not to panic. I just kept praying the whole time I was laying there waiting for my scan as the radioactive sugar ran through my veins. It's done though. Afterward I broke my fast at Panera, looking like a refugee. I was basically wearing PJ's and a skull cap, and it drew a little attention from the retired breakfasters that inhabit Panera at 9AM. The stares sometimes bother me, but to tell the truth I felt like a refugee. I felt like a refugee of the cancer war....bruised, scarred, but not broken. Walking through the restaurant, it's hard to relate to the people nonchalantly eating their bagels while I am erstwhile wondering whether the test I just took will tell us that I am cancerous or cancer free. It's one of those moments when I feel very isolated.

It probably didn't help that I stayed up last night and watched an episode of "Private Practice," in which one of the main story lines was about a girl who was dying of non-hodgkins lymphoma. I kept telling myself, that has nothing to do with you. You have hodgkin's lymphoma. You have good odds. You are going to survive this thing. But still, I would be a liar if I didn't say I was afraid.

Life is often about choices, and so today I will choose not to curl up in a fetal position, but instead will stand tall and live my life as if everything is going to be fine. I've got things to do, and a life to lead. While I don't know, I will assume the best. And that's all I have to say about that.