Wheeeeee! A Chest CT
As I was saying, the roller coaster started climbing about an hour later. Mom went out to do some reconnaissance on adjustable beds for me. She enjoys the thrill of the hunt.
She came home a while later and texted me from upstairs, “I hit the jackpot! Is now a good time to come down and talk?”
Not only did she find an adjustable base at Mattress Firm that will work with my existing mattress, but it was on sale, we got a model upgrade because the cheapest wasn’t in stock and the man didn’t want us to wait, the platform height is customizable so I’ll be able to get in and out of bed easily, and they offered her a deal on delivery.
Mom explained my situation to the salesperson when he asked what she was looking for, and when he rationalized the generous quote to her, he said, “You’re doing a good thing, and we want to do a good thing too.”
Y’all.
So, mom, buoyed by her success, went to two more furniture places and found us living room chairs on sale at one. Mine is a lift chair, but because Dan is so much taller than us, she needed to be sure the one she was thinking of for him would be comfortable.
“You up to going to Kettle River to test drive a recliner?” she turned to Dan. “Sale ends today.”
“Sure,” he said. “Let me just put on some real pants.” He swapped his pajamas for jeans and a T-shirt and off they went.
They were only gone for just a few minutes when the CT scan results came through my patient portal. I steeled myself for bad news, and hesitated before tapping my phone screen.
A very wise part of me thought it wasn’t a terribly smart choice to read the results alone. But the push notification was right there. I couldn’t not look.
I scanned the report, skipping quickly over the part that said my heart looked healthy and was in the right place.
(I mean, duh.)
Then I read the words from the doctor saying my lung nodule had “completely resolved.” The joy and elation came out my previously and unceremoniously emptied asshole like a unicorn farting rainbows.
It’s gone. I repeat: the 9mm lung nodule is gone. Both lobes are healthy and clear.
It was fantastic news, but Mom and Dan had only been gone a couple of minutes. I was vibrating with happiness while waiting for them to get back. So I just noticed what the joy felt like bouncing around in my body and tried to be present.
I don’t think I fully succeeded, but the point is I tried and I cleared some of the depressing funk that had settled in my brain. I made room in my happy place. I sprayed a little Febreeze and Swiffered the cobwebs.
Or, put another way, I reached the thrilling summit of the roller coaster track. I’m hanging out up there, eating ice cream. (Actually I celebrated with a vanilla milkshake AND a Dirty Dr Pepper.) And when the coaster starts barreling toward the ground, I’m going to try to put my hands in the air and scream enthusiastically. If I throw up, it will be glorious.
Wheeeeee! A chest CT.