Bad Words on the Brain

We were up early Monday morning to brave the rush hour traffic to get Lily to her latest round of MRIs and CT scans. The calendar had been marked for almost a month and Lily countered her nerves by asking question after question. Will we have to leave while it's still dark-yes. Will it still be night-no. Then why is it dark- because the sun will just be waking up. How long will it take to get there- an hour. Will there be traffic- probably.  How many times will they poke me- once. How long will I be asleep- a couple of hours. Can we get noodles after- of course. Ok-Ok.

We get out the door and I turn the radio on to the beautiful news that there are 2 stalls and rain. Hopefully we will make it in time. Almost an hour later- we are still 20 minutes out. Mom. Yes Lil? It's 6:29. I know. The calendar said 6:30, we need to be there at 6:30. I know. It's 6:30, we are not there. It's going to be Ok Lil. They always allow a little extra time. But I call to let them know we are running late- just to be nice.

So I am having an MRI and a scan? Yes a CT is of your chest- because your lungs move when you breathe- the CT uses extra energy to take pictures of your lungs faster. The MRI is of your brain and organs and everything else.

So they can see my brain in the MRI?  yep.
Can they see bad words in my brain on the MRI?  me laughing hysterically.
It's not funny. Actually it is, and no, they can't see bad words when you think them.
But I can see the words in my brain- why can't they see them? The MRIs aren't that good.
Oh.

We finally find our way up to the sedation center and go through the routine paperwork while the nurse slathers on numbing cream in 3 different spots. Although Lily's port helped a lot during chemo, we haven't had a problem with blood draws for years- that is until last month. The oncology nurse whiffed it and after 30 minutes of looking for another vein- I just asked to go to the lab. I had a feeling today was going to be about the same. The nurse- who was our nurse a couple of scans ago and had trouble drawing blood from Lily was on- great. He tried twice to get her IV in- nothing. Ugh. And why doesn't she like the gas? He asks. Well- I don't know- she said she doesn't like the small and it makes her scared- but it must be pretty bad if she chooses to be stuck over doing it. ALlrightythen. He has the anesthesiologist take a look- telling me- if he has trouble- she's a tough stick. I file that away under the nurse who once told me never to let a doc do a blood draw- they are horrible. I'm hoping the anesthesiology part of his doctoring included extra practice with IV's. They have exhausted the numb spots- so he injects her with novocaine. At this point I mention- you know- when she first got her port out- they used to just dart her. Really? That's an idea. So he tries, nothing- at this point my monkey pin cushion is starting to come unglued- she has not shed a tear to this point- but the facade is cracking. I give the anesthesiologist the look- Ok dart it is- you know it hurts a bit right? Yes- but after being stuck four times- we are kind of just being cruel at this point. The telltale sign- when he asks her if she wants to try the gas- she still shakes her little curls as a tear slides out one eye. I would let them stick me all day over this. It sucks. He brings the dart back and talks about numbing the area with a novocaine shot- JUST DO IT I growl- at which point he sticks her and she screams and I hold her and want to smack everyone's heads together.  In a minute she relaxes looks up at me confused and then breaks into a wide grin. Better now? She nods. That hurt huh? Yeah.  We get her down to radiology and I whisper- you can think all the bad words you want. Love you monkey.

The MRI was as long as predicted, which always makes me feel better. Anything longer always means something's up. Always. When she's done with CT- she starts to wake up. She looks at me and smiles. How are you?  You have 3 eyes she tells me. Hmmm, I pull back thinking I'm a little close- Now you have 4 eyes, Can I go home now? No not until I have only 2 eyes. DId they do the MRI? Yep you did great. Oh Ok, is the MRI done? Yep, you did great, I repeat to the goofy kid- but I'll take this over the screaming. 

A pediatric oncologist walks into the center- my heart stops. She smiles and goes to another family. Phew. No news is good news. I look back to Lily. Did they do the MRI she asks- oh goodness. Yes- did you think any bad words? Yeah- I thought the B-word. Did they see it? Nope. Oh Good, because I thought it alot. Me too kiddo, me too.