Well, I’ve now experienced a CT scan, so whenever I hear “Get a stat head CT” on House, I’ll know that the patient (who won’t turn out to have lupus, either) is about to slide in and out of a huge donut shaped machine while a mechanical male voice intones “Breathe in… hold your breath…[scan]… breathe normally” several times.

My particular CT scan required two kinds of contrast: the “Berry Smoothie” barium contrast (with a pretty picture of a cascade of different kinds of berries next to an appetizing picture of a GI tract on the label) once at night and twice in the morning, and then an IV of contrast during the scan. And boy oh boy is that IV contrast a weird experience. The tech said, “You’ll start with a metalic taste at the back of your throat. Then a hot feeling around your mouth that’ll move down your body. When it gets to your abdomen, you’ll feel like you’re peeing your pants. You aren’t. Don’t worry.” I’LL FEEL LIKE WHAT???

And she was right.

I was also a little disconcerted to have the only thing in my field of vision be labeled “Laser guider – do not stare into the beam.” So I just kept my eyes closed most of the time.

Luckily, I happened to schedule my scan for the day the radiologist comes to the clinic. And luckily the radiologist got my results to my doctor quickly. And luckily, my doctor had time to call me right away, so I only had to wait about 5 hours to hear that I don’t have tumors on my adrenal glands, or any other visible abnormalities in that area.

I’m sure I’ll be able to feel happy about that soon, but for now I’m just alternately numb and weepy. And I’m so very tired of tests. And I’m tired in general. And they still don’t know why my labs are off. But I don’t have tumors on my adrenal glands, which is a very, very good thing.

I have such a headache.

Today started with a third trip to the car repair place. The first one last week resulted in the mechanic telling me to take the car to a dealer because wheel bearings shouldn’t go out this early so it should be covered under warranty. The second one resulted in the dealer’s mechanic telling me it was more than just the bearings going out, that it would all be covered under warranty, but that they didn’t have enough time to complete the work so I’d have to come back. And so I came back. I had an appointment for a drop-off this morning at 9am, and they had reserved a rental car for me to have during the day (since when don’t they do loaners?).

And that was where the day started veering off in the wrong direction.

It was after 11 when I finally got to my office, after having been kept waiting, then told they didn’t have a car for me after all but could get one from Avis, then having the Avis guy take forever to show up from a mile away (like, half an hour or more), then being taken back to the Avis place to fill out paperwork there, then finding out that no one knew who had my drivers license and insurance card, then finally finding it in the rental guy’s pick-people-up van while he was on the phone with a friend making vacation plans, then sticking up for myself (rather uncharacteristic) by suggesting that making me pay for the day’s rental was so ludicrous as to be laughable. (That sounds very brave, but I think my actual words were, “Uh… I really don’t want to pay for this rental.” Said with “Seriously, I want you all to die,” in my tone.)

Great morning.

The early afternoon featured me being testier than necessary, followed by a phone call from the dealership saying that they’d broken the speed sensor on my wheel, that they’d overnight a new one from their distributor in Iowa, and that they’d already heard about my morning’s terrible experience, so they’d give me another day of free rental. (You better BELIEVE they’d give me another free day of rental.) After having my courage worked up for me by a friend, I called their manager and secured a promise that the car would be done by noon so that I could travel as I’d planned, though even this isn’t great because it means that I either put off my travel plans by about 3 hours or I take all my luggage (including the cat) with me to work and then up to the dealer. What a mess.

While I was on the phone with the manager, someone called and left a message that she wanted help with a program that’s far beyond her computer literacy skills. She’s wanted the same help with it every day since Friday. After half an hour on the phone with her, carefully describing (from memory) the steps she needed to take and buttons she needed to press, I finally went over to her office and spent an hour there being very, very patient. VERY patient.

By then I’d had enough, so I went home a little early, only to find a message from my doctor of which the only memorable phrases are “could be caused by a tumor” and “CAT scan.” I’m supposed to call him tomorrow to arrange that. That’s when the headache kicked in.

Two good things happened today. 1) My co-worker brought me some eggless pumpkin cookies, and 2) the dealer called to grovel quite a lot, offering me a 25% discount on all rentals through them forever, giving me the general manager’s cell phone number which I can call “for any reason” (the mind boggles), assuring me that there have been several high-level meetings about my case today, and saying that there’s good possibility the rental manager can get the service manager to give me a free routine service next time I come in.

So tomorrow I have to see about this CAT scan thing, attend a meeting I really don’t want to attend, deal with the car thing, and travel for 6 hours.

What a day.

I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I have a pretty good guess. How it happened doesn’t much matter now, though, because it won’t change the fact that I somehow got egged yesterday. And by “got egged” I mean “accidentally ingested some egg and therefore induced this mood-altering allergic reaction of mine.”

My first clue appeared yesterday evening in the form of a headache. My second clue was my inability to deal with that headache like a grown-up. My third clue was wanting to argue with everyone in sight today, and complain about everything I can’t argue with, and cry about all of that and everything those things don’t cover.

So yeah. Just leave me alone today (and probably tomorrow, and possibly the day after). I’ll be ok, and nothing’s actually wrong. It’s just that I might let down my guard and accidentally snap your head off, and neither of us wants that to happen.

The day I came to this town to look for an apartment, preparing to move here and be far away from my family for the first time in my life, my mom suggested we kill some time by going for coffee at the local coffee shop. We sat sipping our drinks and talking over the apartments we’d seen so far, and I concentrated on memorizing every line and speckle of the crazy lamp on our table in an attempt to occupy my brain with anything other than the desperate loneliness that was threatening to overwhelm me.

Four and a half years later I bought a cup of coffee, spread out my newly acquired coloring pencils and watercolors on the table, and looked up only to realize that I was sitting there next to the very same lamp. And so, for the next three hours as I set color to paper, I contemplated how much has changed since that first spring afternoon. And how little.