In Which the Author Plays Hooky

Ok. So I've been wondering when the hell my August CT scans were going to be scheduled, anxiously checking the mail for an invitation, worrying and fretting and then double checking the mailbox again every day because there's no way to just call Our Lady of the Damned on the phone to ask. Nothing in today's mail. Damn. I had really hoped to have the scan results BEFORE I go in to (at least theoretically) have my port removed on Friday.

But then a few minutes ago the phone rang and oh my god it was an oncology nurse from OLD wanting to know why I missed my appointment at Onc clinic today! And why I missed my scans last week! Crapoloosa! I never got the fucking invitations in the mail! I had no idea!

I was panic stricken and on the verge of tears, figuring it might be MONTHS or even YEARS before they rescheduled me, if ever. But listen to this: the amazing and heroic onc nurse made me an appointment for the scans on Thursday, yes THIS coming Thursday, day after tomorrow, the 16th of August, at 9:00 am! I doubt they'll have the results read in time to stop the port removal the next day if the news is bad. But oh well, at least I'm finally going to have my six month scans.

Ok. Yes! Thursday! Day after tomorrow! GAAAAHHHH!!!! Please excuse me now while I go throw up as an intense wave of scanxiety plows me down like a Mack truck. I'm terrified! I'm so not ready! GAAAAHHHH!!!!


The scanxious author performing frantic last minute calisthenics in preparation for the imminent scans that loom ominously on the horizon.