What'dya think? CogboyPunk? SteamNoir?
It's been a pretty good day. The first person rewrite is going well. Wrote something like 4000 words today, and the change in POV and some character and story elements I'm changing are working out very nicely. Progress feels good. Makes me remember what I like about writing, which is primarily the actual writing. This is something I could do...working on this stuff during the day in my little office space.
Dog stuff. Let's see, there was going to be a second ultrasound. Wait, what was the last thing I told you people? Biopsy, right? Let's start with the biopsy. There hasn't been one yet. Initially it was supposed to be Friday two weeks ago, but that got moved to Wednesday last. Then that got rescheduled to Thursday, because one of the doctors was recovering from bronchitis and they were stacked up with procedures. So we took her in on Thursday for an ultrasound, and while she was sedated they did a dental as well. Well, they got the dental accomplished, had to pull a tooth, but as they started the ultrasound the doctor decided that he wasn't too comfortable with the image he was getting.
This is complicated...how best to explain it. One doctor had done the initial ultrasound and declared there to be a tumor. A growth. Something. Now a second doctor has looked at it and he thought it was actually the spleen, imposed over (or behind) the liver so that it looked like a tumor, or growth, or something, but in fact wasn't anything but the spleen. The tricky bit here is that you can't just poke a spleen with a biopsy needle. That's bad. And if it is a spleen, well, the needle isn't necessary in the first place.
Now the doctor who made the initial call wasn't in on Thursday. Neither, in fact, was the head doctor of the clinic, but they were both going to be in on Friday. So we took her back on Friday, and after much hemming and hawing (shouldn't that be geeing and hawing? Isn't that the correct cultural reference?) they decided that whatever was in there was too far in there for them to figure out what it was, and we would be better off going to a specialist. So we're going to a specialist.
I suppose that's about as close to good news as we can get. My initial hope was for a simple "not malignant" but I'll take "not a lump at all" if I can get it. And it's nice to be handing this over to someone who does three or four of these a day, rather than the general practitioner. Not that they aren't great, they've been with us since Phae's first exam and they're really good at what they do. Save her life once already.
Anyway. That's all from me. Let life come to you, and expect nothing, and appreciate everything. The sky's nice today, and that's enough for me.