I was supposed to have my scan last Friday. Instead, I was admitted to the hospital the afternoon before. I'm thinking that I worked myself up in to such a tizzy that my only coping mechanism was to physically sicken myself. I feel pretty weak admitting that, but it's the truth. I've got a four day hospital bill to prove it.
There's a lot riding on my scan tomorrow ... my future treatment plan, my future traveling plans, my future physical well-being and emotional well-being. My future. Maybe because I'm much more coherent this time around, the results feel so finite. It's either going to be a good, clean scan and I'll be jumping for joy, or it will be dirty and I'll be forced to stay in Cancerland for another 6 months, maybe longer.
Either way, tomorrow can't come and go quickly enough. Most terminally ill people don't think that way but I'd dare say us cancer warriors all feel that at some point before a scan.