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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/416069-Ice-Cream-Helps
Rated: 13+ · Book · Writing · #998498
What I'm thinking about today. . .
#416069 added March 29, 2006 at 9:05pm
Restrictions: None
Ice Cream Helps
In the past three weeks I've debated about life and death. Early on, I decided to indulge myself in ice cream. I mean, if the world ended tomorrow, and ice cream left me with a smile on my face, what difference would it make 100 years from now. I haven't become obsessed about eating ice cream, but I've had a container in the freezer most of the time lately. It's there if I want it, and I don't feel guilty. It really won't make any difference in 100 years.

I had a late lunch/early dinner at Luby's cafeteria after leaving the Sammon's Breast Imaging building today. I felt the need for fish, and a hot cup of coffee. Places that take x-rays are always cold, and I was there for 2 1/2 hours. I almost gave in to this delicious looking slice of cherry pie. It used to be my favorite as a kid. But I was seeking sustinance more than comfort from food.

In the four x-rays that the technician took, the mysterious spot only showed up in one. I waited a long time for the doctor to finish with the patient in the sonogram room before me. I finished "Illusions", a novel I got in large print, and have been reading for three weeks. I started a magazine, then finally was called into a dark cold room, and instructed to lie on a table. One I was in the room, the doctor and technician got to work on me pretty fast.

The docotr said the spot had only shown up on 2 out of 8 x-rays they had taken, and he expected the sonogram to show nothing. Instead, it showed a large dark are of something.

The doctor spoke in calming words, and was most reassuring in his manner. He said it might be scar tissue from my 16 year old implants. I never had counted how long I'd had them. He said after 8 years, sometimes the envelopes wear out, but he didn't see any indication of that kind of problem. If it's not scar tissue, the other word he said was "tumor".

A new person in blue scrubs arrived after I got the sonogram goup off, and had time to slip my shirts back on. My needle biopsy is scheduled for Friday, in two days, at 2:15. Afternoon appointments work best for this late sleeper, and I was very glad that they could get to it fast.

Pathology results take 2-3 business days, and the lady who led me out of the maze of hallways said the info might be in by the close of business on Tuesday.

Bipolars get moody, and I haven't been taking my meds regularly. I need to fill up the bottles from samples, or get refills, or something. I've had a half-dozen waves of almost tears come over me this evening. Funny they call it a mood disorder. When I get overcome by feelings, the word "mood" just doesn't seem to cover what I'm feeling.

So, in another week, I'll know for sure if this is a bad thing, or a nothing. It could still be a nothing.
© Copyright 2006 a Sunflower in Texas (UN: patrice at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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