At Georgetown

First, thanks to Kath and Peg for acting as stand-by Robbie-grabbers this afternoon should my schedule have gone south.  Turned out that their services weren't needed, but their willingness to serve is greatly appreciated.

It's said that the sense of smell is the most evocative, the most memory-invoking of the sense. As I sit here in a waiting room, waiting for my CT scan, I can verify. On the wall here are pump dispensers of Endure Advanced Care waterless hand sanitizer. On a whim, I used some on my hand. I am now on a olfactory magic carpet back to last Summer and the hell that was. It's weird, because even knowing the phenomenon doesn't help with the flood of angst that so unexpectedly accompanied that scent. And it's not stopping--I'm going to have to wash my hands to remove the smell and drive the monsters back underneath the bed. Tomorrow I go to see Robbie's school play, the play I left last year to go to the emergency room at St. Mary's hospital. Circumstances are quite different this time around, but the smell of the hand sanitizer brings the specters of those two week around. All the sudden, I'm anxious to get the hell out of here.

This morning's marrow draw went as expected.  The "Owiee" factor was a little higher than normal, but the doctor performing the procedure was nice.  For the "Nick at Night" viewer, the doc looked like the older sister of Victoria Justice from the "Victorious" series.  Very nice, very competent lady.  Once we established that we didn't need me to don a robe for my modesty's sake, I assumed the position and we went to work.  Only fly in the ointment so to speak was that I had taken asprin this morning, so I was a little more of a bleeder than would have been ideal.  Every time I showed the slightest evidence of sensitivity (not from an emotional standpoint, but from a physical) she nailed me with more lidocaine.  Good samples.

LATER, From home:  The CT scan was non-eventful, though we did have to add another bandage over my biopsy wound, as it had bled through. 

The schedule was tight on both ends:  dropped Robbie at 7:45, reached the check-in desk at 10:05 (for a 10:00 appt.), donated another 13 vials of blood to the clinical trial at the lab, and was being marrowed out by 10:30.  Got out of the CT scan by 2:30, in time to pick Robbie up at daycare at 4:30.

I'll go in next week to get results, but my gut tells me that we're still working towards remission, but that I'm not remissed just yet.  Not setting myself up with too many expectations.   Keep those prayers coming, though.