Confusion Reigns Supreme

I went back to the hospital on Good Friday for a follow-up check on my health after my collapse.

I was expecting to be there for a couple of hours waiting to talk to someone about what happened.

I underwent more blood tests. Another urine sample. Another MRI scan. And a CT scan too, just to top it all off.

And then waited.

and waited.

and waited some more.

After ten hours, I walked out. I didn’t ask, I had just had enough of waiting and not being told what the hell’s going on.

I received a voicemail message a few days later asking me to go back to discuss the results of the tests. (And it might be advisable if I brought along some moral support…)

The following morning I went back not knowing what was going to hit me, but prepared for anything.

I’m surprised how well I coped hearing it. Not a wimper, not a sigh, just “ok, what comes next?”

That “sinusitis” that I’ve been suffering for the last month? The blocked-up feeling a the back of my throat up into the nasal cavity? It’s not swollen sinuses. It’s a tumour.

It’s cancer.

There.

I’ve said it.

Cancer.

Now I just have to deal with it.

It’s not the death sentence it used to be.

I just have to deal with it.

And hope for the best.

I have an appointment for a biopsy on Friday, after which it’ll take a couple of weeks for the doctors to figure out exactly what sort of cancer it is and what the best treatment will be.

Until then, I just wait. Knowing, but not knowing.