It's MRI Time not Miller Time

The next step in what seemed to be turning into a long process, was to have an MRI of both breasts which would tell Dr. Runk if there were any cancer cells in the left breast and any other tumors in the right breast. So, very early on the morning of January 25, 2011, I arrived at ProScan Imaging's location on Kennedy Avenue (there are so many of them), went through all the preliminary paperwork, consented to more stuff and followed the MRI technician through hallways whose walls showcased maybe 50 or so photographs taken by a doctor at the center. He must have taken them on vacation in Southeast Asia. I think his photos were a good distraction from the apprehension of being inside of a large tube for about 45 minutes. I've had two previous MRI's which were no biggie. But this one would be slightly different because I would be face-down in the tube instead of on my back like the others. AND, the technician would inject dye in my veins towards the end of the procedure which I'd never had before.

So, the technician gave me a headset to listen to music while in the tube. This is humorous to me because it's difficult to listen to ANYTHING while the magnets are banging. But, nonetheless, I was able to listen in between the banging noises and it was nice because the station I chose was Christian rock. And, I prayed a lot during the procedure. I mean, not for myself, for all the people on my prayer list which I was trying to picture in my mind. I had a little trouble picturing the names on the upper left quadrant of my list, though. My apologies to those people.

Then, towards the very end of the procedure, (by the way, the technician very kindly asked me if I was okay periodically during this whole thing), she notified me that she was injecting the blue dye in my I.V. and that it would be a very odd sensation. I'll say. It felt like there were waves washing through my entire body and then I had a strong urge to pee. However, all of it lasted for only 30-45 seconds. Then it was over and I was heading to work.

I added another notch to my belt of new experiences today.

Greg's B.D.

Snow. It was, for Cincinnati, not normally this snowy. But, during the past few years, the snow was consistently blanketing our region with several inches on many occasions. It meant that I would need to trudge through the stuff to clean off my RAV-4 and decide if I would head home or go to work which was just across the street from my motel.

Ok. Since it was Greg's 61st Birthday today and I was in a state of shock already, I decided to drive back home to Price Hill. According to the traffic websites and the TV broadcasters, the rush hour traffic should have declined by then since it was mid-morning. Wrong. I was in a brain fog and unthinkingly I got on the interstate. But the ramp to I-75 south was clogged and I looked over at the interstate and saw that the traffic was bumper-to-bumper and barely moving.

It's too late to change my mind. I was mired in 5 mph traffic and the pavement looked like a sheet of ice. I crawled south and it took 45 minutes to drive about 5 miles. Suddenly, the traffic opened up and the road was no longer icy and we drove along at 35 mph for the rest of the way home. How blessed it felt to make it home safely! I wondered if I would even make it that day.

During my conversation with Dianne Runk the previous evening when I got the invasive lobular cancer news, we had scheduled a time to talk for later in the afternoon.

Greg and I met our dear friend, Joules, at Dianne Runk's office and we banded together. I think we all felt we could defeat the cancer sheerly by strength in numbers. So Dianne Runk led us back to her office and we sat around a table plotting the attack. She drew out the battle plan and the options. The next step was to schedule an MRI of both breasts to see if there was cancer in the left breast as well as how big the tumor was in the right breast.

And this all happened on Greg's birthday.