Crapday

I’m on a roll. Yesterday, Monday, was an ALMOST thoroughly crap day. The gorgeous, warm, sunny weather saved it.

I had a spine MRI scheduled for 7AM, immediately followed by a review of those pics with my spine meningioma excavator, Doc Coumans. After that I was to head back to Brainville for a two hour blood test-a-thon.

Problem – as the MRI techs were loading me into the tiny tube, I had a monster panic attack. I squeezed the panic button and screamed to be let out.  The VERY kind techs were quick to respond – YEA!

Apparently my bean decided (without discussing with me first) that I just wasn’t ready to deal with my back’s tumor blossoms again. Not yet. I KNOW Mister Wizard (AKA Doc Coumans) has to go back in to take out more of those rat bastard meningiomas but, and I’ll bet this won’t come as a shock, I’m just NOT ready to go under the sharp, pointy scalpel thing again…not yet.

Best I can tell, I’m not exhibiting back-tumors-in-revolt symptoms, nope. I have just the odd still-recovering/regaining-strength-post-bean-sliceage weakness. So, the MRI and sit down with the good doc can wait a month.

Still, I felt like such a pantywaisted fail queen for not being able to get into, let alone endure the full hour in the claustrophobia machine.

I now had the whole day free which is where the brill weather comes into play. Ten and I took a long walk along the seawall which went a long way toward burning off my frustrations and self-recriminations.

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.
~ Lao Tzu

Sorta, kinda related – I was bopping around the web and looked in on an Acoustic Neuroma ShoutyFace page. You’d think this would be a good, comforting place for me to visit…right? I have a fucked up rare disease and SO DO all these people!

Yes EXCEPT for the vast preponderance of post surgery folks who are ALL about thanking God for making it through surgery.

I get it, really I do. If you’re a card carrying Godaholic, this makes sense. BUT, whether you belong to that club or not, why is nobody saying a big, all caps thank you Doctor Whoever for doing such an awesome life/hearing/whatevs extending job. Honestly now, you can believe in God and STILL credit your surgeon. IN FACT, if you are a big God created us all type, wouldn’t ya also believe that this supreme, glorious bean is guiding, working through your surgeon. Like MAYBE this scalpel welding dude/dudette is a tool, a servant of this God without whom you’d be fucking toast!

Last night's gorgeous moon

 
Granted this shit nails me where I live. My cousin Carmel would, quite likely, still be alive had she not come to believe that only GOD could make her all better and tumor free (Ed. note: there’s no cure for Nf2). Carm and her idiot husband decided the docs were not to be trusted. Their God would need to heal Carm all on his own. This always struck me as demanding and odd. Their supposed Supreme Being was to behave like a trick circus beastie jumping through hoops?

She was around 50 when she took the last train outta this life.

My mother trusted the docs but chose not to rule anything out. She and me Da DID go to a faith-healer tent thing once, maybe twice, because Hey, why not and who knows.

Me? I’m just not as open minded as mia madre BUT a faith-healer woulda been a good for a laugh I suppose.