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is ticked off I feel a sense of<br />
accomplishment and mission.<br />
There is some imaging I<br />
need to take care of, and I<br />
make several calls until I find<br />
a center with the soonest<br />
appointment. With all the<br />
conveniences it brought, the<br />
downside of doing pre-op<br />
during COVID is the limited<br />
in-person appointments when<br />
telehealth appointments are<br />
not an option, but I manage<br />
to get an appointment for<br />
Monday, only a few days<br />
away.<br />
After taking two relatively<br />
simple scans, I anxiously<br />
await the result, just to get<br />
that box ticked off. I am<br />
completely thrown when<br />
my surgeon calls me a few<br />
days later. “The chest X-ray<br />
showed some swollen lymph<br />
nodes. We need you to do a<br />
CT scan before we proceed<br />
with clearing you for surgery.”<br />
I panic, I google, and I<br />
schedule the soonest CT scan<br />
for the coming Friday at a<br />
local imaging place.<br />
I come in for the CT scan<br />
and anxiously wait my turn.<br />
I muse that if I am this<br />
anxious about a scan, how<br />
will I react when I am about<br />
to be operated on? But I<br />
know myself, and know I will<br />
forge ahead and through<br />
everything until I get there.<br />
My name is called, and I go<br />
in for the test. I have never,<br />
baruch Hashem, needed<br />
a CT scan before, so the<br />
procedure is unfamiliar. I am<br />
told to lie down on a narrow<br />
bed, and a scanner is used<br />
on top of me. I seem to recall<br />
that a CT scan should be<br />
done in a circular machine,<br />
but I may be wrong.<br />
I get home, it is on a Friday<br />
and I have a lot to do. A half<br />
hour later I get a call from<br />
the imaging center.<br />
“We’re calling your name and<br />
you are not here for your<br />
scan. Are you keeping your<br />
appointment?”<br />
I do not know whether to<br />
laugh or cry. I rush back and<br />
explain that I was tested for<br />
something. They check their<br />
records; it seems I had gotten<br />
a bone density scan meant<br />
for another patient… They<br />
are gracious about it and I<br />
get my CT scan done. After<br />
the hassle I find this incident<br />
extremely amusing. At the<br />
very least, I’ve got a funny<br />
story to tell!<br />
I am not laughing, though,<br />
when I am presented with<br />
the results of the CT scan,<br />
which finds a dilated artery<br />
with recommendation to<br />
follow up with a cardiologist.<br />
At this point I am afraid.<br />
Despite my size, I have<br />
never struggled with health<br />
issues, and I am afraid that<br />
my weight and the dire<br />
predictions it always brought<br />
along with it have finally<br />
caught up with my heart.<br />
I make an appointment<br />
with a cardiologist, who<br />
sends me further for an<br />
echocardiogram.<br />
Baruch Hashem, after a few<br />
weeks of anxiety, the echo<br />
shows nothing abnormal. My<br />
cardiologist sends over a<br />
letter of clearance, and I am<br />
finally ticking off that box.<br />
Another visit with my PCP for<br />
final clearance and yet some<br />
more bloodwork, another talk<br />
with the nutritionist, a final<br />
call with the surgeon, and<br />
we are on. Surgery date is<br />
looming and, while I cannot<br />
be more prepared, I cannot<br />
help questioning myself. Am I<br />
truly going ahead with this?<br />
Apparently, I am.<br />
to be continued...<br />
<strong>Winter</strong> Issue<br />
Leeba Wein (a pen name) is a freelance writer living<br />
in New York. For inquiries, she can be<br />
reached at leebawein@gmail.com.<br />
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