with gratitude i report that my annual health check went well. looks like i may have to get some surgery on my uterus, my fibroids are growing on the wrong wall and too quickly. trust me to have an ambitious fibroid. but it can be removed laproscopically, probably, which is good news.

i don’t give the health check up much thought going into it, but every year, when i lay down for the internal organ ultrasound, i get a little paranoid. especially since i cannot understand what the x-ray folk are saying. after a couple of minutes the little doubts start darting through the haze of my minimal discomfort.

the x-ray tech seems to be spending a lot of time in that spot.

i try to dismiss that thought, to no avail. yes, it seems she is.

click, she freezes the image.

why? what is wrong?

click. there she goes again, same spot. she didn’t move enough for it to be a different organ…same organ. why did she freeze two images of the same thing is nothing is wrong?

she wouldn’t.

ergo – something is wrong.

from then on, my mind battles as the logical side of my brain tries to track where the ultrasound probe is going, while the fearful side of me starts imagining which organ they have found a shadow, or lump in. i harken back to the human chart and try to remember where each of the organs are, but instead i just remember what colours they were. in desperation i try to remember playing operation, and where the organs were, but i only remember the funny bone, and today, that is not relevant.

i try to fight this rising panic off, and focus on following the reaction of my skin as the gel spreads against it, which is the best way i have of keeping track of where the probe is, and where it is pausing.

one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi

i want to ask what is wrong but i don’t. this is a routine ultrasound, because of the history of cancer in my family they are being very careful.

is it just me or is the probe coming back to the same spot and just examining it from different angles?

it is, yes, yes it is. im sure of it.

is the ultrasound tech moving the probe that way so spread the gel evenly or because she needs to get yet another look?

why am i being asked to hold my breath? my lungs? they need to measure the spots on my lungs? have the 20 smuggled cigarettes of my youth caught up with me? if nothing was wrong, surely i wouldn’t need to do this inhale exhale thing more than five times. i have done it 12 times now.

and holy mother mary….a doctor just walked in. did the tech call for him? i didn’t hear her. but then again, that could be explained by the fact that she only speaks THAI.

he repeats the ultrasound.

a doctor…this is not good.

still, i refuse to ask what is wrong, because i know i will not be told until they want to tell. like painting taught the karate kid how to block, seeing infertility and epilepsy docs have taught me that you don’t get answers until they’re ready.

finally, the pressure is off my stomach. i don’t realise this because i am weighted down with fear. i don’t try to stare at the ultrasound screen. even when there were babies in the ultrasound screen i could rarely understand what everything meant…ultrasounds just look like one grey where’s waldo’s to me.

‘miss terrrreeeesa muhvnornen (not correct way to pronounce, but i appreciate the effort) leeon..you may move now."

it’s the tech again.

the doctor is still there.

"everything looks okay." he goes to to explain that the fibroid is growing and that my gallbladder is still oversized but i confess i didn’t hear much. i am luxuriating in the world "okay".

i am okay.

i know i could get hit by a bus crossing the street (especially since i am not the most pedantic observer of cross walks) or food poisoning or whatever or whenever..but having charles beside me and h earing the doctor declare us both to be healthy individuals was such a benediction. not that we had been worried, and not that this declaration guarantees us a longer life…but it sweetened the weekend for us, somehow. for those few paranoid minutes, we faced the concept of a shortened life. and suddenly we realised those fears were not coming to fruition. they were just fears and we were just fine.

we had a wonderful weekend together, and sunday morning, i woke up and knew that despite having reservations to fly home the next morning, i wanted to fly home that evening with magnificent. so, i called the agent and changed flights (at a cost of $100us), cancelled my next day appointment and hotel reservations, and got a facial, before heading out to the airport.

and at the airport, we were upgraded to business class.

i won the lottery, for another year.