This is Ryan’s CAT scan and the blue circle is the mass. And, no. It doesn’t look like "nothing." It looks like a big massy scary-looking something. Actually, it’s not nothing. It’s snot. Yeah. SNOT. In all my wild imaginings, snot never made the list. Dr. Arce sure never mentioned it. In Spanish, I think that’s mucosa de nasal [moo-COE-sah day nah-SAL]. Sounds way less disgusting.
Last Friday, Dr. Arce [R-say] was serious as a heart attack looking at the three sheets of x-rays. He kept pointing to the suspicious area, shaking his head. Then he’d read the lab reports again and not say anything at all! Sheesh.
So five days of roller coaster panic over snot. When people say, "Isn’t life funny?" they must mean this.
It was a wild five days.
I started making all kinds of promises to God, then had to admit out loud what God and I both know: I welch on my bets and I don’t keep my promises. Besides, what could I promise to God she doesn’t already have? What a silly notion. "I’ll be a better person, God, I promise." Like I’m not going to try to be a better person everyday anyway?
I am making headway on this. Really. A little slower than I’d like. Ok, a lot slower.
On Saturday, I finally went out to buy some of that MMS that cures everything I read about a few years ago (yeah, I’m one of those). I’ve met a few people here who swear by it. So I called Lewis, the guy who sells it here, and arranged to go to his house to pick it up. He called me back three times in 30 minutes, twice to make sure I had the directions and the third time to ask me to stop by the Fresh Market to pick up a pineapple, some bananas and a watermelon. I almost giggled, but managed to say, "Sure!"
I got his fruits and found his house. Lewis met me at the gate. He’s a buff, bald Little Person with a very healthy complexion. Of course he asked me to pick up fruit… driving here is hard enough. It’d be impossible with a car outfitted for him.
He explained exactly how to use the MMS and made me repeat it all back to him. We had a lovely chat, talked about what brought him here, what brought us here. He is also on the lookout for an income and is working with a buddy of his in the states developing some kind of powered cell that collects energy from the universe. Not solar energy. Energy directly from the universe. You just lift up the lid when you start to run low on power and the power cells draw new energy directly from the universe. I fell in love with Lewis. I hope he makes millions.
Tuesday morning, I called a friend who’s wife had a baby at CIMA a few months ago. There were some complications and I hadn’t spoken to them for a while. It turns out she picked up an infection and had been in the hospital two more months. The infection was necro-something. It’s horrible, like having been burned all over your body: you eventually get all new skin. Recovery will take… a really really long time. I was devastated for them, of course.
And I realized I was counting on our incredible luck not running out. I was counting on the fact that I had plans, and other blog posts to write on other topics. I know that’s all as dumb as making promises to God. But I was. Hearing that something so bad happened to people so good made bad news seem a possibility.
I’m saying a little prayer now for them. I wish there were something I could do.
Hal had lunch with two guys this week, both big in the Conspiracy Theory world. There’s a lot of us here… But one of ’em told us a theory we’d never heard: apparently, many years ago, there was some inbreeding of reptiles and humans creating a reptilian-human bloodline and today those "people" are in positions of power. "You mean like lawyers?" Hal asked. Fortunately, the guy laughed. Then suggested that Tony Blair might be one of these creatures. I can believe it. I mean, take a good look at Tony. See?
So when I say it was a wild five days, I’m talking out of the ball park. Everything is intensified when you are under that kind of stress. Thank God for girlfriends and blogs. That’s how God works: he gives you friends. And thank God the panic comes in short intense waves. Otherwise, you can’t function. I had to keep saying, "It is what it is. We’ll deal with it." And something really bad happening to Ryan was simply out of the question.
Panic over a big wad of snot. I might be embarrassed but I’m too relieved. "It’s all good," as Ryan likes to say.