It has been a busy couple of days. The imaging tests were all uneventful. I even slept through most of the bone scan. The most eventful part was when I opened the washroom door and found a man sitting on the toilet. (I think he and I were equally disturbed by that brief encounter, although he might have found it slightly more disturbing if I’d told him I was going to blog about it.)
During my bone scan, the technician phoned a doctor, gave a patient’s name and birthdate, and reported he’d found a mass in her brain. It seemed strange to me that I knew about this total stranger’s brain tumor before she did. And then I started wondering if the next patient to lie on this bed would hear him telling my doctor that I have a tumor in my spine. (I myself will have to wait until June 8th to find out.)
I’ve dealt with quite a few different medical people over the past little while, and I find it interesting to note how differently they treat me. Nobody has been outright rude to me, but some are just civil and detached. They don’t look me in the eye, they don’t interact with me beyond the absolute minimum required to carry out their duties, and I get the feeling they don’t think of me as fully human. They’re just processing me.
But others have been warm and friendly and have taken the time to do a little more than they have to. Like Lisa yesterday, at the Queensway-Carleton Hospital. Her job was to give me an injection in preparation for the bone scan. But she asked me what other imaging tests still remained to be done, and when I told her I didn’t yet have an appointment for the MRI, she made a phone call and got me that appointment. I thought that was awfully kind of her.
Speaking of kind, Debbie, Bonnie and Grace came over yesterday afternoon and spent a couple of hours transforming my goutweed patch into a garden! It’s lovely. There are hostas, forget-me-knots, bloodroot, a bleeding heart, a jack-in-the-pulpit, and some other things I can’t remember. They also noted that the garden gets more sun than they expected based on my description, so we left some room for a few herbs.
Remember when I said I was sure some good would come from me having cancer? There have been several good things already, and this garden is one of them. (Thank you kindly, my green-thumbed friends.)
It was a pleasure to meet my imaginary friend Grace, whom I’ve known online for quite a while now, but have never actually met in real life. All our prior interactions had been though my blog, email, Facebook and Farm Town, plus a couple of cards via snail mail. Sometimes when you meet someone in real life after a long online friendship, you’re surprised by how different they are from what you expected. Not this time. Grace was exactly what I expected. I was happy about that.My Dad and Merle came to visit from Montreal last night, and we went for dinner at Mexicali Rosa’s in the Glebe. We had a very pleasant evening, and they brought me this fabulous sheep that they found in Florida. She doesn’t have a name yet; suggestions are welcome.
Here’s the Sheep with No Name grazing in the Garden of Hope.