Hey Doc, why so glum?

You know, it can be so much fun reporting good news. Yesterday I was in super high spirits because the prognosis had so dramatically flipped and in such an unusual way. It makes for a really great story! The irony that a second cancer turns out to be good news was a pretty irresistible story device. But, dear readers, the other shoe may have dropped.

Dr. Scott, my Hematologist made a surprise visit to my room yesterday afternoon. I presumed that he had not yet heard the good news because he looked a bit pale and slightly less joyous than the last doctor who walked through that door. Rather than assume the the four legged mammal with a mane was a horse, Dr. Scott had waited to see the final pathology report on the lymph node biopsy. Turns out it was a zebra.

Yes it was indeed lymphoma, a second primary cancer, but it was not the expected kind that neatly explains my other symptoms and gives me an overall positive prognosis. It's called, "acute lymphoblastic lymphoma". Dr. Scott says that we need to set aside thinking about he esophagus tumor for a bit and focus on the new cancer because between the two of them, it is the more aggressive one. Man, that Dr. Scott is a real buzz kill!

He wasted no time and pretty much unfurled his bone marrow biopsy tool kit right there in my room. I'll spare the graphic details except to say that to get a bone marrow sample, you have to poke a sharp object inside of a big bone and those suckers (bones) are pretty hard on the outside.

I was also squeezed into the MRI schedule for the evening. They needed to look at my brain and although I have not yet read the brochure on acute lymphoblastic lymphoma, I am presuming that the purpose of an MRI is not to see how smart I am.

Since I am no longer hooked up to tubes, I got to ride the wheelchair down to radiology. You've all probably had MRIs but it was all new to me.

They start out by telling you that it is real loud , like jack hammers but the good news is that they give you headphones so you can listen to music. The choices were, Christian rock, country, jazz, classic rock, oldies or classical. This did not bode well! I chose classical because I thought they couldn't mess that one up... but I was wrong. Do you remember that scene in A Clockwork Orange where they make him listen to his beloved Beethoven while administering this drug that would make him sick whenever he had an association with that music? I couldn't stop thinking about that.

First of all, imagine an AM radio playing elevator music through airline headphones. That is the fidelity we are talking about. They tell you that the space is really confining and that it is important not to panic. And then they give you a panic button. So, of course, all I can think about is "not panicking". And then... they were not kidding about it being loud and obnoxious. And just when you get used to that loud obnoxious sound, it changes to a different loud obnoxious sound. And it has a rhythm and that rhythm is completely different from the rhythm of the music which you can barely hear. You know how when you walk while listening to music, you have to adjust your stride to the rhythm of the music? Well you can't adjust the rhythm of the MRI so the music only adds to the stress. Don't panic, don't panic! (Note to inventors... electronic music that adjusts to and matches the rhythm of the MRI)

After I was back in my room, Abby made a surprise visit and we watched "The Office" together and we laughed and began adjusting to the new normal. Whatever that might be.