I had my MRI on Friday, a somewhat different and less pleasant experience than my previous MRIs. It was my first time at that particular facility and I think they may have been using a more powerful magnet (3.0 Tesla as opposed to 1.5 Tesla), which necessitated more arduous safety protocol (triple word score!). Instead of taking away my cell phone and telling me to have at it, they required me to change into a hospital gown. I could keep my underwear and my bandana but that was it, and I declined on the bandana since I'd really rather not spend 40 minutes resting my head on a knot.
On to the important part. I won't have the official word for another day or two, but Dr. C. called me the same night, after office hours, to tell me that... everything looks fine. From a quick once-over, he said it actually looks pretty good and didn't see anything new to worry about. He went out of his way to call me because he's dedicated, not because there was anything that needed immediate attention. I'm going to swing by his office today to drop off some copies of my earlier MRIs; I tried to give them to the MRI operators but they didn't want them. Some question of providence, I guess. They said they'd get them directly from the other facilities. Dr. C. seemed surprised by that and requested I bring the discs to his office.
My appetite's held pretty stable, though I have forgotten to eat a few times over the last several days. My energy level, not so much. I felt OK on Friday but was told I looked pretty bad, while on Sunday I felt much worse and was told my color had improved since Friday. It's kind of annoying that my physical state shows that much in my face, especially when it doesn't always match how I feel. I sort of wish people would stop talking about my color. I know that the implication isn't, "you're really sick so I'm amazed you almost look healthy!" so much as, "the other day you looked like hell but I didn't want to say anything and I'm glad you're doing better now."
I'm still not totally devoid of symptoms. That tiny burn mark remains in the center of my left field of vision, still so small I only notice it when I isolate it within the body of a single character of text. I'm not sure I'll ever be rid of that. The eyestrain's getting kind of bad, too. I really need to get some glasses already, as I have more than a year now. My hands were trembling again on Friday and my mother noticed, so it's unfortunately not just my imagination. They haven't given me any trouble since, but I really hope this is just a passing symptom. I spend all day typing. My hands are my livelihood. At least they usually are. I've been wandering through a patch of chemo fog and the words aren't flowing, even by their new, lower, standard. Hopefully this post will act as something of a writing exercise and throw some grease on those gears.