Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon
Wednesday gratefuls: Rocky Mountain Cancer Care. Tarot. Kabbalah. Positron Emission Tomography Scans. In a trailer. Axumin. Drugs. Benzo. Air purifiers. Purified Air. Rarified air. 8800 feet. Living in the Mountains. On a Mountain. Alan. Tesla.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Axumin tracer
Tarot: Eight of Pentacles
Boy did I relax. Took the benzodiazepine. Slept 3 hours and 40 minutes when I got home. Got up at 7 pm and the dogs hadn’t been fed. They were lying in the family crate with me, willing to let me sleep. Calmed me way down.
Not sure it helped much with the scan. I’d read the wrong information about the scan. I read the information for a PET scan where the wait after injection of the radioactive tracer is an hour. In the case of the axumin scan? No waiting. After injection the axumin travels to the prostate bed, the most important site for the scan. Right away. They want you in there soonest. Oh.
I popped the small pill and waited. I think they had mischeduled my scan. The main tech was in a bit of a hurry. She slipped the butterfly IV in my right arm. Said she’d be back in a bit. She was. About five minutes later she injected the axumin and I went into the bed of the trailer for a lie down.
Oh. Yeah. This is the newest PET scan machine. The latest and greatest according to the tech. Just got it in April. We had to walk through the receiving bay for ambulances, out into the parking lot. Sure enough, a long white tractor trailer sat on a stretch of asphalt behind the main building.
Watch the stairs. The handles are loose. They were. It felt like going up the steps to a carnival attraction. Step right up, see the amazing, the latest, the greatest, PET Scanner!
Lying on the curved bed of the scanner, knees up on a naugahyde triangular pillow, after the techs had left the room, I remembered. Hey, hey. My hearing aid! They came and got it. No metal in the machine.
The bed wiggles a bit when it moves but otherwise goes forward and backward smoothly and precisely. Gotta get the right parts to the scanner. I closed my eyes, the benzo had not yet taken affect. The bed moved. I opened my eyes.
Oops. Closed them again. I was in the middle of the tunnel, surrounded on all sides by curved metal. Just the thing that triggers my claustrophobia. I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok. I talked myself down though the urge to crawl out of the tunnel and run away was strong. Gradually the drug began to work and I calmed down. Took about twenty minutes, maybe a bit more.
Now, somewhere, stored in bits and bytes, the current story of my prostate cancer has visual imagery. In the next couple of days a radiologist trained in the dark art of reading such images will make a report. If there’s nothing urgent (I don’t know what that would be.), I’ll get a telemedicine call from Kristie, Eigner’s PA, to go over the results next Tuesday am.
After that, I imagine, will come a referral for radiation. Probably back to Anova Cancer Care in Lone Tree.
I drew, again, the eight of Pentacles. “A time for slow and steady work to fulfill a vision. Focus on one step at a time rather than the final goal.” And, “Whatever your health concern is, right now you need to take a step back and look at the process you are taking.”
A holistic look, a vision for my health, not just cancer, not just post-polio, but my healthspan.
The cancer path has clear steps now and I’m following them: orgovyx comes today. Had the PET scan, await the results and what they suggest. Nothing more to do now. My bone scan is today. See what I need to do for my bone health. The new hearing aid and microphone come on Friday. That will help me, especially as mask mandates return.
I’ve restarted my exercise routines, gradually building back up to three sets a workout, 15 reps, three days a week. Longer cardio on off days.
My spiritual life (I don’t like the word spiritual, gotta find a better one. It has no there there.), for lack of a better term, continues strong. I am part of the world, part of the natural world, ensnared by entropy. I will return to the earth, dust to dust. That is certain and ok. The Great Wheel turns and I turn with it. Rejoicing in the seasons: of the earth, of my Kate, of myself.
The place I could improve the most is diet. Want to get that kitchen remodeled so I’ll want to cook in it. I need to get better at preparing food for myself rather than going the easy routes of frozen meals or take-out.
One foot. Then another. And, another. The path? The ancientrails? Life. Health. Creativity. Friendship.
