Yesterday (Thursday, 2/9) I had a cardiac MRI. They had to get an IV in me, which is a pain in the ass because my veins SUCK. It took twelve tries, four people and close to four hours to get a line in. Three of those tries were in my neck, the last try there being the one that finally worked.
Then there was the whole MRI itself, which hurt like hell because of my fused vertebrae. Laying on a hard metal plate for an hour and a half was agonizing.
Today my neck hurts. My back hurts. I’m sore, I’m tired, but overall, I’m okay. You know why?
Because they ruled out cancer.
“Remember how my cardiac scan was shown to a doctor’s conference? They found something on the scan that confuses them. It is most likely something that is there because I have really unique anatomy, but we are still being cautious and doing further testing tomorrow. All prayers and good vibes are much appreciated.”
That’s what I posted on Facebook on Wednesday. A handful of people knew details, and I kept it that way. Scaring people isn’t really something I enjoy doing if I can help it. My two step fathers and one stepmother all died of cancer, so I tried not to say that word if I could. One of my closest friends has a brother in remission from cancer, so she filled in the blanks for me so I didn’t have to say it.
I knew for an entire week that there was an issue with the scan results. A week where I didn’t sleep, barely ate and tried not to scare myself further by googling it. I talked to two of my doctors at length, discussing probabilities and other complications it could be.
Preliminary results say it’s scar tissue growing out of one of my heart sutures that’s been in place since 1987. While I’m not completely cleared until the radiologist makes his final diagnosis, I’m breathing better. I slept last night. I ate three meals today (okay, I had ice cream for breakfast, but in my defense it was about to expire). I hung out with amazing friends tonight.
I’m okay.
Thank. God.
