Napkin Note Classic: Tune out the noise.
This is a particularly appropriate message today, now. If you're reading this at 7:15 PM EST, I am currently sitting in the waiting room, waiting to pop in to an MRI machine. It'll loud in there, but that's ok. I need to be in this machine for a little bit, and I will be tuning out the noise. I will be praying and listening to soft music. I will attempt to be at peace.
I didn't update you from the final CT results, and I apologize. I needed some time to process them, especially since I had an initial "all clear" on the day of my CT.
It turns out there are two "vague" areas on my scans. One I am not worried about at all. It's been there in each scan, it is unchanged, and an earlier MRI revealed it to be a clump of blood vessels.
The other "vague" area is concerning to me. It wasn't there three months ago. It's on my remaining adrenal gland. I absolutely hate the word vague. It's hard to fight vague. It's nearly impossible to see vague. I am not a doctor, nor do I profess to have extensive and advanced medical knowledge, but I know kidney cancer. I have been reading about it for 2 1/2 years. I have ready every possible article, even the cockamamie ones. I know my charts by heart.
Vague/new/other side = concerning. I am not worried. I am concerned. I can't wait for the results.
I promise I won't keep you waiting, either.
Pack. Write. Connect.