Part Six: Post-Haste

            Waiting since Monday for the phone call that finally came Wednesday, I thought that Thursday would be relaxation day before Friday’s appointment with the medical oncologist. How wrong I can be!

            I could have gotten up at six a.m. but opted for a couple more hours of sleep.  Only after gazing at the clock, which read 8:38 a.m., did I remember it was only an hour till I was to babysit ten-month-old Josiah.  That spurred me on to shower before breakfast.  Just after 9 a.m. I checked my cellphone.  Three unexpected calls already.  After a flurry of return calls, I learned at 9:20 a.m. that I needed to be in Tulsa at Hillcrest Medical Center at 10:30 a.m. for an MRI.  Aagh! 

            My personal policy for this breast cancer business is to always have a driver because 1) I am a nervous driver in city traffic, 2) driving while distraught is never a good idea, and 3) another set of ears to take in medical information is always a good idea.  So when my daughter did not answer her phone, I called her husband.  “Shawn,” I said, “I need to be at Hillcrest at 10:30 for a mammogram.”  There went their breakfast date.  Shucks.  I’ve wanted to give them Thursday morning dates this summer, and already I’m cancelling the first one.

            Dana and Josiah and I were on the road by 9:45.   Shawn needed to stay home to finish up the last bit of bathroom demolition (they are putting in a new tub due to black mold behind the tiles) and to greet Benjamin when the bus dropped him off from summer school at 11:45.  We figured we would be back well before Joelle’s 2:45 pick up from Good Shepherd’s Child Development Center.  (She goes one day a week.)

            I learned this morning that my daughter is very capable of driving over the speed limit when necessary.  By 10:40 a.m. I was at Hillcrest’s registration desk.

            This was the first MRI I have ever had, so I was a little anxious.  The technician was wonderful, and the thirty minutes in the tube were not bad.  I could even hear the classic hymn selection that I requested coming through the headphones whenever there was a break in the clinging and clanging of the machine.  Naturally, there was a surprise blow-out of my vein in the first IV attempt before the MRI began.  (Only after it happened did I remember that my lovely protruding vein in my left hand has a history of blow-outs.)  Fortunately, the right hand was cooperative. 

            Afterward, Dana and I ate at Panera’s, which is conveniently located near the hospital, while Josiah enjoyed chewing on the highchair buckle more than eating his own food.    And then we drove home at a slower pace (I think) than on the way in.

            So tomorrow morning I will be on the road again, this time with friend Mona, for my first appointment with the medical oncologist.  Highway 75, here we come, but not post-haste at eighty like this morning.