The doctor saw me the next morning. His eyes left my face as he listened to the details of the last weeks. With each statement, his head would sink a little lower. When I stopped, his head was down past his chest. “Okay,” he said firmly,” You need a CT scan with contrast dye. Are you allergic to shellfish?”
The next day, I was getting a scan. I was going alone because the doctor had felt that it was likely that I had a small cerebral head bleed due to the accident with the greenhouse.You don’t do anything for a small cerebral head bleed except rest quietly at home. As I walked to the car, my next door neighbor stopped me and asked me where I was going. “Let me take you,” she said. “Oh no,” I answered. This was a very busy woman. She was the most in-demand event planner in the state. “No, let me take you.” It was 6:45 in the morning.
When we arrived at the lab, the place was deserted. We had to ring to check in. I was hustled back because I was being squeezed in at the beginning of the day and if it took too long, the lab’s schedule would be thrown off. I didn’t know how long it would take. Note to all: If it takes more than 20 minutes and they keep coming in to change your position and shooting more images, you might have a problem. When I returned to the waiting room, it was noon and the waiting room was filled to the brim with all sorts of people and children were scampering about with toys. I was tired and wanted to leave, but the staff wouldn’t let me. This is also a bad sign.
The receptionist called me to the window and told me that the doctor was on the phone wanting to speak to me. I know he said a lot of things, but frankly I didn’t hear anything after “brain tumor..” I hung up the phone, turned to my neighbor and said,” I have a f—ing brain tumor.” Then, shouting,”I have a F—ING BRAIN TUMOR.” I suddenly realized that everyone was staring. The children gaped at me. They were too young to know what a brain tumor was but the F word had stopped them dead in their tracks.
” I am so sorry!” I exclaimed to their mother who was gently scooping up her toddlers.
“That’s okay”, she replied, compassion stamped across her face.
My neighbor and I drove home. She wanted to sit with me, but I was in shock. I sat at home and got quietly drunk.
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