P1? Isn't That Where the Cancer Patients Park?

U of M Medical Center
Ann Arbor

I got one of those "self-addressed" envelopes in the mail last week.  One you address yourself, after you have a mammogram.  It's ready ahead, to be sent with your x-ray results inside.

I don't give mammograms much thought.  I've always had good results and didn't have any reason to believe this one would be different.  I have to admit, though, I let the envelope sit on my table a couple of days before I opened it.  When I did, I was told I would get a call or I should call,  to reschedule another image.  My first one didn't look like it should.  "What does that mean?"  I thought.  

I tried to distract myself from thinking about it. It was a Saturday, before I opened the dumb thing.  I couldn't call, I had to wait until Monday morning.  Fortunately, I helped my daughter, Heidi, with her yard sale, over the weekend so I was plenty distracted.  I kept thinking of the odds of a mammogram not looking good and how many people have to retake them.  Many without any negative reports after the "redo".  My logical thinking didn't help.

By Monday morning I was a little edgy about the retake.  Reality is pretty clear.  Life happens, smokers and junk-food eaters aren't the only ones who get cancer.  Bad things happen to good people.  Bad things just happen.  

I was nervous about my chance of not being able to schedule this second image by the time I leave for Turkey in a week.  Things just seem to compound when there is something happening on the calendar.  I even told myself, "Who cares?  I can take care of it when I return, and not worry so much."  Easily said. I knew it was more than I would be able to handle.

P2, NOT the Parking for Cancer Patients

I called first thing Monday morning.  The receptionist scheduled me right away for Tuesday.  She said I would go to the Cancer Center at U of M Medical Center and check in there.  Park in P1.  "Mmmmm…."  I thought (but didn't ask)  "Why can't I just have it done again at the imaging place, where I had my first one?"  Heart starts to race, shoulders start to come up by my ears, my hip starts aching!

Monday was also Heidi's birthday, I knew I wasn't going to concern her with this cancer-paranoia of mine, (real or imagined).  I shared her birthday lunch at Northside Grill,  with her and her friend, Sonya.  The waitress gave her a birthday hat with candles on top.  The look on her face was classic "Heidi".  Sweet, happy, life.   I savored my oat bran blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup.  I savored sitting across from my sweet, 23 year old.  She opened her small gifts and began reading excerpts from "Wicked German".  Her German is much like her singing voice, exquisite!  

By Tuesday I was ready for the worry to be over.  I practiced plenty of strategies to distract myself.  I decided to drive an hour early to the cancer center, so I could park and walk for an hour.  It was a nice, over-cast day.  The word "Cancer" kept popping up on the signs, in the parking area, in the faces and postures of the people I saw walking to the center, parking with valet, or being pushed by wheelchair.  One small child was being carried in by her parents.  She was pretty listless and had a scarf wrapped over her head.  They looked despondent.  I really felt like a lucky lady to have two girls who I was able to see make it through their childhood, without the fear of "Cancer".  I certainly wasn't feeling sorry for myself anymore.  What will be will be.  I'm plenty blessed.  I'll handle what I have to handle.

Play Structures for Children at Medical Center

When I saw this sign on my walk I thought,
"Good thing they have the psychiatric emergency next to the Oncology!"

By the time I sat in the waiting room, with the blue gown on, (that opens in the front), my brain was working overtime.  Blessed or not, I didn't want to stop what I know as my life, to fight cancer.  I have difficulty asking for help.  The brochures I was reading in the waiting room (free to new cancer patients), stated "Get someone to help you through this process, you can't do this alone".  Crap!  Bump, bump, bump went my brain.  

After the x-ray, I was told I was to wait in the waiting room.  I would get the results and would be told if anything else needed to be done.  It was a long twenty minutes.  I must have crossed and re-crossed my legs a hundred times.  "General Hospital" was playing on the small T.V. in the corner.  In twenty minutes of the soap-opera (and I wasn't even paying much attention to it), someone had threatened to kill someone, with a gun to their head. A patient, had stepped on the roof-top ledge, of the hospital, to commit suicide.  And a nurse was cheating on her husband!  None of the woman in the waiting room were really watching it, The Sound of Music movie would have been much more appropriate for us to watch as we waited for our results.

I took a deep breath when the technician asked me to follow her to a small room.  I took her smile as a good sign.  She assured me my second image was clear and I could check out.  I floated to the dressing room, down to the parking garage, and into my Trailblazer.  

I was glowing and in a haze.  I put my car into reverse and BANG!  The left side of my car smashed into the cement column.  I got out looked at the damage and laughed.  Such is life.  A little dent to a non-living object.  A beautiful reminder of how quickly life turns and how important it is to capture as much of it as I can, while I'm healthy.

My New "Cancer Free" Tatoo 

Que Sera, Sera