A trip around the sun

t's been a trip around the sun since my last breast MRI.

A trip since I finished all my cancer treatment.

Which only means that it's time for; yet another, MRI

Can I get a WOOT WOOT?

I definitely get anxious about them (and I cut myself a break on this. Understandably so)

It's not fun sitting still for so long in a chamber cocoon thingie but it's really the mental stuff that gets to me.

Because I can't move and I hear a beating drum sound for 25 minutes well, really, what is there to do but agonize?

For 25 minutes with orange ear plugs in your ears, placed in the torpedo position, face down- and your breasts inserted in holes - the goal is to try to not think about cancer so you can make it through without having a panic attack.

Easy enough??

The man (or in today's case, lovely J with a southern accent) from behind the wall speaks “ok Abby- the first session will be 6 minutes long. Try to lay still”

I named her Oz because you know- duh - "man behind the curtain -Man behind the wall."

Ok. So let’s see where my mind can go for 6 minutes?

First we start with trying to map out the first ever apartment in my mind but I start to get annoyed that I can’t remember where my bedroom closet was so we move on to stop any kind of aggravation from happening.

Baby shark do do do da do
Yup. Don’t have a toddler yet singing it for days.

Damned you Today show segment with cute little you tube girl demanding Alexa okay baby shark.

I move on to the Mary Tyler Moore theme song. I sang it for oldest when he was in the NICU and it became my mantra.

"You’re going to make it after all"
I figure applicable to his mom at this point so we sing Mary and move on to other fantabulous 70 sitcoms.

Try to name to Walton kids and realizes that Jim Bob and John Boy could also be names of the Duggar kids.

(Contemplates if there actually is a Jim Bob Duggar and makes a mental note to self to google it once Oz releases me from this breast chamber.)

“You’re doing great Abby. Next session is two minutes”

For those who may never have had the good fortune to have any kind of MRI when Oz says "sessions" it has to do with the time of each picture he takes (I kinda made that up but I think I’m right).
And during each session you hear an annoying amount of knocking sound that sounds like a combination of a horse galloping on your head and the constant screeching of the emergency alert warnings that come through your cell phone.

We move on to the girlfriends guide to cancer book which I’m hoping to write some day.

Number one entry would be that no one tells you it takes 18 months for your hair to almost fully grow back. I laugh when I think back to when I shaved it off and DH told me that -for sure I would have long hair by youngests bar mitzvah (which was a year later).

He wasn’t all wrong. I had hair at a decent enough length but when I look at my pictures I’m unhappy because it still didn't feel like it was me.

And that pisses me off.

Another thing cancer robbed me of.

A decent family photo.

Plus I didn’t lose the weight I wanted to.
Which I will fully blame on cancer and chemo and cancer meds even though I haven’t lost the weight I’ve wanted to in over 7 years which really had only partially to do with cancer.

Oz tells me at this point I’m almost done.
I start to get a hot flash and am literally dripping sweat down my forehead.

I try to meditate. I try to focus on my breathing but the horses are galloping even louder and I'm pretty sure at this point I'm about to vomit.

Mommy shark do do do da do...

(Dear God grant me the patience to not squeeze the emergency ball they give me for a “just in case you’re going to flip out from anxiety or claustrophobia or the need to pee or puke all of the above.)

Second tip for girlfriends guide to cancer. Love your oncology team but find a cancer sister. For real the best advice and tips I got were from fellow cancer girls.
Sure amazing onc team sees it all but they don’t experience it all.

Plus no one fully understands and sympathizes like a fellow CG.

They’re honest about GI symptoms and allows you to call a spade a spade instead of calling it “GI symptoms” .

"Ok Abby. Last one. Here comes the contrast"

(For those who dont know this joyous part it is dye that goes through your veins and is cold and sometimes tastes metal-like)

Yup. The fun continues.
Plus I'm pretty sure Oz told me prior to this that I was almost done so I'm starting not to believe her.

I made Dh come with me this time around as I just knew I would want to cry (or in this case, puke) when I got out of there. I'm so happy I was smart enough to do this.

I count to 120 and sure enough the time had come to crawl out of the contraption (so ungracefully in your XXL robe, johnnie and pj bottoms)

As my knees click and creak I note to self: Exercise more than I'm doing.

So, I’m sure I’m fine.

But I hate needing to check that I’m fine.

And I hate that this is now my life and I hate that I get to be alive to curse this disease while some aren’t.

On that note- I leave you with this...

Jim Bob Duggar is actually a real person.