I.amN.otD.eadY.et children so listen up!

Creeeaaaaaccccckkkk.

My heart skipped a beat at the sound of an unfamiliar crack. A very loud noise. The house at last surrendered to the weight of the cold that blew in overnight. It settled over the area like a weighted blanket.   

Below zero kind of cold creates a hush. It was quiet, as if all the birds, the cat, the house, and myself were holding our breath. A game of silence. It was beautiful. But, the house lost the game. It let out its breath so deep, with the crack so deep that the roof shook above me.

Cold can be strangely peaceful. Unless you have to spend any amount of time in it.

If ever retirement paid off, it was on days like Monday, when you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. Well. I had to go out. It was a three-month check-in with Dr. Rocket. My CT scan from the neck to the pelvis was Friday, Jan. 17. The doctor’s appointment wasn’t until Monday, Jan. 20. 

During the CT scan, as I felt the sensation of heat from the contrast dye move through my veins from my heart to my belly, I debated whether checking the results of the scan in MyChart Friday would be wise. Or, should I wait til Monday. Many friends were waiting for the results.

I had no choice but to wait.

Nothing. Friday,

Nothing. Saturday.

Nothing, Sunday.

Monday. Holiday. Was anyone going to work in radiology that day? What happens next in my 2025 hinges directly on the results of that scan. It’s always on my mind, the unknown, the entire weekend, smothered in thoughts as cold at the temperatures.

I tried not to think about anything. It was possible for short periods when I focused on a puzzle or reading. Not very easy.

The doubt was still there. On Monday, I found the sense of peace in the quiet cold world welcome, so welcome.

I’m Late…
It’s Tuesday, and I missed my Monday blog deadline. What shall I write, not knowing the results of the test?

I warmed up the car and made it to the clinic. I waited in the doctor’s office for what seemed like an eternity. Did he know anything?

He did.

No radiology report, just the images. He looked at them before the appointment.

“I don’t see anything,” he said. “Your cancer is stable.” That news puzzled him a bit, I think, as he mulled over when to schedule the next CT scan.

I asked if he had read Dr. Pollack’s notes on my brain MRI. Since the tumors responded to the Gamma Knife and were nearly extinct (and hopefully not coming back), I was released from Mayo and put on a six-month MRI schedule. Until I experienced symptoms again, the tests can be done in Bismarck and shipped to Mayo.

“I will talk to your oncology doctor at Mayo and see what he says,” said Dr. Rocket. What he says about spacing the CT scans further apart.

I don’t know what to think.

The radiology report arrived in MyChart at 9:50 a.m. Tuesday, Jan. 21. The last sentence before the signature read, “No metastatic disease.”

Like the house, I finally exhaled.