One CT Scan

Late this afternoon I will have the CT scan that my second surgical opinion recommended. I am indifferent to it. I have never felt so indifferent towards a scan before. I want to care. I know that I should care, but I don't. Is that bad? I do not know.

This morning, while making a cup of tea, my mum walked into the living room to wake up the cockatiels and let them fly in the living room. She popped her head around the doorway to confirm what time the CT scan will be at. For some reason we both kept thinking quarter to five, when it actually is at four fifteen. I walked into the living room - we both stood there to admire the birds for a minute - the two females flew onto my shoulders - one on each. My mum looked at me and rhetorically said "We have been to a lot of appointments, haven't we? Even on your own. You are chronically ill..." I said "yes, I have had a lot of appointments, but I don't like to think about it." Mum replied, "you are in denial about it, aren't you?" I said, "yes, a little bit. I don't want to talk about it." We both stood there for a minute, quietly,  birds on my shoulders.

This is new about my infection this time around - I am in denial. I want to hide. I want to pretend that everything is o.k. In the past I was ready to fight, to be strong, to have a positive attitude throughout this. Don't get me wrong, I still want to get better and intend to do so, but I am more reserved about it now - more quiet. This blog helps a lot for expressing my feelings, but I don't talk about being ill very often with family/friends anymore. Talking about it hurts. This time I feel like I am resigned to just go through the motions of being ill. There is no point in making a big deal out of scans - we (mum and I) know the infection is there - or appointments - we know what to expect from my doctors. It is just a matter of sitting through them and waiting for surgery.

There was a cork board that hung across from the table in the kitchen for many years. A great aunt sent my mum a card a long time - it had a cartoon ostrich with it's head stuck in a plant pot filled with sand. My mum pinned the card to the cork board, and I remember seeing it almost every day at dinner time and smiling. The card was in Dutch - roughly translated it said "Sending my greetings! I am gone for a little while but I will be back!" That is how I feel right now - I am still here, but part of me is gone for a little bit. I am not sure if I am really in denial - I am aware of my health problems - but I am ignoring them as much as I can. When I am healthy I will pull my head out of the sand.