Tomorrow--Wednesday--More Tests

Tomorrow we go back to Wake Forest for the rest of Bill's tests to see if his cancer metastasized anywhere. I wish that word were shorter: metastasized. Like, I'm going to call it MZ'd. I know people say "mets" but heck, that's a ball team.

So we hope nuthin aint MZ'd nowheres.

[Pat and Richard, if you're reading this, if you want to email us, PLEASE do! And if you want me to do any googling for you, I can do that, too. Although you're at the number one place in the universe for it, so I'm sure my Google Degree (ha!) wouldn't help much.]


Anyway, as for Wake Forest tomorrow, here's the plan: we park in this one garage and go in and Bill gets radioactive dye shot in him. Sounds fun already, doesn't it?

Then, there's this three-hour wait for the dye to soak into his bones.

During that wait, we drive to a different garage to park and then Billyboy gets a ton of pictures taken of his whole insides, to check all the organs, everything.

Then we drive back to garage number one, and go in to the nuclear medicine place and El Caballero has to lie still for 45 minutes on a table while they take pictures of all his bones.

When he leaves, he will glow in the dark, so it should be easy to find our car in the parking garage. wink.

I hope we get the results really soon.

ANNOUNCING MAJOR CHANGE IN ATTITUDE ON THE PART OF EL COWGIRLITA:

If all these tests come back clean, I'm TOTALLY changing my approach to this thing. I'm going to decide that he is invincible, and I'm going to proceed like he is completely cured forever.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I know better than to think THAT, but thinking this new way is going to feel SO much better than what I've been doing since day one: I've been so scared and so negative and freaked out and horrified that I just forgot to take control of my thinking. Have you ever seen that game "Whack-A-Mole" where you put in your quarter and you get this hammer and you look at this table full of holes and these toy mole creatures start popping up and down real fast in different holes and you try to whack them with the hammer before they go back down again?

Well, I've felt like those moles, and like Some Horrible Kind of Someone is out there with his giant whack-a-mole hammer, and I'm within seconds of being whack-a-moled into 500,000 itty bitty mole pieces.

Only I don't know WHEN that flipping hammer is going to come slamming down.

On my poor little mole head.

So, yeah.

Wow. Some of my metaphors get really off-road sometimes. Sorry bout that.

But anyway, I'll post tomorrow night if I possibly can.

And if I can find a picture of a cowboy glowing in the dark, I'll put that up, too.