Shit I Lost Count Again

Ooh, they had to dig that IV needle around today.

“Easiest enough for them to order it that way…” I smirk.

“Oh yeah,” my tech says, fishing for a vein for the perfusion needle–a little larger than what’s needed for a scan only with contrast. It has to do with the higher pressure the perfusion stuff is pushed with to show the network of vasculature in your brain during the MRI.

That shit is so cool to me.

But we were fishing in my arm.

We’re buds. You can’t not be. Me and her have been seeing each other every month or two for the past several years.

Listen, if I’m honest, not the best at IV placement. But shit, I’m always a mess shuffling in with my gown sloppily tied, not even using my cane, but carrying it for god knows why, and I’m like, “hey by the way your hair looks great! I love it!” And I do. It does look great! And that’s just healthcare friendship.

Friendly guy in the booth today. Fellow bearded traveler, his a little ginger. A little. He was very enthusiastic that I lie so sill. I think it’s kind someone noticed! Whitney deflated me and said, “You’ve done more scans than that guy.”

Somebody who knows we’ve been counting asked me “scan 52?”

“Shit, I lost count again.”

And that’s the top and bottom of living a long time with cancer. Sometimes you just lose count. Forget the memory. Get angry when you shouldn't. Let yourself off the hook when you shouldn’t.

Shit, I lost count again.

But in the day between the scan and the visit, there's no need to count, anyway. Just smile about my friend in the radiology suite, and I bet we both thought about that stubborn needle at some point later today.

That’s a healthcare friendship.