Follow Up 2.5, part 1

I was in a fairly good mood this morning, despite the feeling of impending doom that comes along with the two-week period of waiting for my six-month check. Once it was time to start getting dressed though, it started. I felt like a little kid; "I don't wanna go!" I talked myself into putting on my scrubs (no metal in them) and forced myself out the door.

I checked in at the front because of the CT and was feeling quite resentful of the pep displayed by the girl who checked me in. I did't like her one bit. She told me I had to pay $291 before I could have the CT and I pictured myself going bananas on her about the healthcare in America. Of coarse I simply said, "he told me on the phone, I only had to pay a portion". After watching her run around like a chicken with her head cut off, I started getting angry. I didn't just not like this girl, I hated her. Finally she returned and told me that I could pay whatever I was comfortable with.

I got my bracelet and went down to the clinic for labs. By this time, I was almost all the way inside my own head talking myself out of throwing up. I checked in and sat. Normally I chat with the receptionist, but I wasn't feeling it. I secretly kicked myself for not just going there first.

They drew my blood in the chemo room which made me further sick. I hadn't been in that room since chemo. The nurse was talking to me and I just wanted to get the hell out of that room! Thank God she was quick, because I was very ready to throw up all over her.

I went down to CT and they took me pretty much right away. These CTs seem to last longer and longer. This once short procedure now seems to go in slow motion as thoughts of what could be inside my chest rush in. It's always cold in that room, no matter how I layer myself. The tech was particularly friendly and although I didn't hate her, I did not appreciate that chipper tone. Misery loves company I guess.

So now the week-long wait begins. Last week I was a little on edge with it getting worse the closer today came. I know this next week will be my own personal brand of hell.