First, the (tentative) good news. This morning I went in for the fine-needle aspiration, which turned out to include not only an ultrasound, but, based on what they saw on the ultrasound, a CT scan—bonus!

The needle bit wasn’t bad. There were four people in and out of the room, and they kept stepping out into the hallway to talk, which was a little stressful, but it’s probably better that I didn’t hear all the details anyway. The part with actual stabbiness was nearly pain-free. Uncomfortable, yes—three tiny numbing needles and some poking around in my neck—but preferable to, say, a series of paper cuts, or dropping a dictionary on your toes.

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Since it’s Larry’s first Christmas, I was going to get his picture with Santa. Turns out the line was really long, so we went to these other folks instead.

After the MRI part ends (3:00) it gets pretty boring. Feel free to skip ahead to the puppy at the end.

It’s one or the other, for sure.

Hearing from the doctor that the MRI was inconclusive got me worried. I assumed that if he’d thought it was a lipoma, he would’ve ordered a test that would differentiate between lipoma and not-lipoma. My assumption turned out to be correct.

I got to see the radiologist’s report today, and it did conclude two things: (1) there is a large* mass under my left shoulderblade, sitting on top of my lung, and (2) it is definitely not a lipoma.

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Hi Natalie, this is Dr. X. I got your MRI results, and there’s definitely a mass of some sort in your neck. [No, really?] We’re going to get you an appointment with an ear, nose, and throat doctor to have it biopsied, okay?

Commence freaking out in three . . . two . . .

It went well. The machine looked and worked just like the ones you see…on TV? In the movies? Wherever you see MRI machines, I don’t know.

The usual things they warn you about—being in a tiny tube, the jackhammer noise—weren’t so bad. Though I have my fair share of irrational fears, claustrophobia is not one of them.

The biggest surprise was how long it took. I was expecting to pop in there for five or ten minutes, but it was more like an hour. The timestamps below are approximate—when you’re lying still for an hour with no indication of the outside world apart from the thrumming of the machine, your sense of time gets all jacked up.

The most uncomfortable part, by the way, was the brace they used to hold my head still. Try this: Put one fist on each cheekbone and squeeze them toward your nose. I’ll be back in an hour—you let me know how that feels.

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8:30 – A second gown? To hide my ass? How thoughtful of you!

8:33 – Ooh, someone brought muffins! Can I eat in the tube? No? Damn.

8:35 – The MRI tech looks puzzled when she sees my lump. She asks if it’s from an injury. I say no. “Well…I guess…we’re going to see what it is? Maybe rule out…some things?” Awesome, very reassuring.

8:36 – Damn, I was hoping there wouldn’t be any needles involved. What helps: telling me the needle is much smaller than the one used to draw blood. What doesn’t: telling me it comes near the end of the procedure. Now I have the whole time to think about it.

8:39 – Gosh, they’re really strapping me down. I’ll lie still, I promise.

8:40 – This isn’t a small tube at all. It’s bigger than I am, and that’s all that matters. No point in opening my eyes anyway . . . nothing to look at but a blue stripe.

8:42 – Jackhammers? Nah, sounds more like an air-conditioning unit.

8:45 – And now it sounds like an ultrasound, but louder.

8:56 – Ah, it stopped. I can breathe again. [Tech reminds me to breathe slowly.] What? There’s more?

9:05 – Don’t think about needles. Don’t think about needles. Don’t think about needles. I am thinking about the bottom of my left foot. I am thinking very, very hard.

9:12 – Hmmm, this is kind of hypnotic. I wonder how long I’ve been in here. Surely it’s almost over.

9:14 – How do they get kids to lie still for this? Seems like it’d be impossible.

9:17 – And now it’s clicking. No, clanging. Like a steel drum.

9:18 – OH. *Those* jackhammers.

9:19 – I bet this would make an interesting video. There are so many different sounds here—it’s like trance music. I need to remember the sounds so I can replicate them somehow. If I don’t fall asleep.

9:23 – Aha! They knock them out. I remember now.

9:24 – Aren’t they gonna take me out? There’s still this needle thing we have to do.

9:25 – I’ll call it “MRI Remix.” But what can I use as a visual? A blue stripe? Images of MRI machines? Medical-y things? Something completely unrelated?

9:26 – Uh-oh. I’m moving. Don’t think about needles. Don’t think about needles. Don’t think about needles. Don’t think about OMG COULDN’T YOU HAVE PREPARED ALL THAT WHILE I WAS IN THE TUBE JUST STAB ME IN THE HAND AND LET’S GET IT OVER WITH.

9:27 – Well then. That was nothing. But now it’s cold. Very very cold inside my arm. Back in the tube, hooray!

9:29 – What did she say? Eight more minutes? That’s cool. You know, my face is starting to hurt a little. I wish I could move.

9:33 – For this part I would use a washing machine.

9:34 – Okay, I’m really excited about this video now. I want to share it with the world already, but it’ll take more than a day to do, and I want to post an update on the MRI before the end of today. I should start remembering my thoughts so I can blog them—I’m sure people will be FASCINATED.

9:37 – I used to have hands, I think. Feet, too. But now it’s hard to say, as I haven’t moved them in . . . how long has it been? An hour, maybe?

9:39 – Ok, ow. This is not eight minutes; I must’ve misheard her. I hope I get out soon, because my cheekbones are really starting to ache.

9:40 – My face hurts.

9:41 – My face hurts.

9:42 – My face hurts.

9:43 – My face hurts. You know, I could squeeze the “panic ball” and come out. I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble, though, or make them redo it. Surely we’re almost done. I can stand it for a little while longer—it’s only pain. People have been through worse.

9:44 – My face hurts.

9:45 – Trying to think of something else . . . a warm sunny beach, perhaps? How cliché, and how totally unappealing. I’m not a beach person. Oh, and my face hurts.

9:46 – My face hurts, and now I have to pee.

9:47 – My face hurts.

9:48 – MY FACE HURTS.

9:49 – MY FACE—HOORAY! Out I go! Ah, sweet cheekbone relief. No more tube for me!

9:51 – I can keep the socks? Rock.

9:52 – Okay, so I have to walk now, like, with my legs and stuff. And put on clothes? Ugh. This “outside world” thing sucks. I want to go back in the tube.
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Wasn’t that fun? It was almost like you were there with me!

I could’ve stayed in there for hours, if it weren’t for the head clamp. The thrumming and booming and clanking sounds are almost hypnotic.

Two business days until the doctor gets the results. I’m glad I didn’t do this on a Thursday.

And DAMN is my hand tired. Analysis final this morning + Medieval Lit final this afternoon = TWELVE handwritten pages. Ow.

Both exams went well, and I’m done with this semester! (Except for a wee bit of my online Greek course, but . . . done done done!) I celebrated with an iced tiramisu latte. Did you know such a thing existed? Me neither, but it was fabulous.

In other news, my sleep schedule is all screwed up (which is why I’m here at 1:30 in the morning) because worrying? Is not conducive to sleep. In case you weren’t aware.

There’s this lump, you see, growing out of my neck. My sore wrist doesn’t want to type out the whole story (you can watch the video instead if you’d like). For a while I thought it was a swollen gland from an infected wisdom tooth, and if I could just get some antibiotics, I’d be fine.

Except that it’s not a swollen gland. The doctor thinks it’s a lipoma, which isn’t so bad (minor surgery), but it’s REALLY BIG for a lipoma and it’s getting bigger EVERY GODDAMN DAY. I’m getting an MRI in 31 hours and I can. not. fucking. wait.

I worry myself sick over the silliest things, and I hate it. The worrying is almost always worse than whatever I’m afraid of. During the day I’m all rational and “Hey! Big chunk of fat! That’s so gross, haha!” but at night, when I have nothing else to think about, it’s more like “Omg the cancer is reaching out to squeeze my windpipe it’s spreading to my lymph nodes right now I CAN FEEL IT.”

See, right now, just from thinking about it, I’m imagining a choking sensation and occasional shooting pains up the side of my neck. They’re almost certainly not real symptoms, but they FEEL real, and that makes me scared, which makes me dizzy and sweaty, and THAT scares me more. Woo, watch me work myself into a tizzy. It’s like a mini panic attack OMG FUN!

So yeah. Not so much with the sleeping. I know I’m silly. I know I know. I probably shouldn’t blog when I’m scared, sorry. Thirty hours and forty-seven minutes.