Whipsaw Days (Part 1)

[Wednesday morning]

Tuesday ended with a diagnosis of pneumonia. Wednesday morning, I get to see pictures. (There's an app for that!) The good news was that its shape suggested that it was a fungal pneumonia, which are generally not as aggressive as bacterial. I mention the sore spot on my gum, which they look at. "We'll keep an eye on that."

Mom comes! She's in town to see her brother Fred, in his final days, but also to see me.

The Posse comes in. No news. "Any pain." "Well, I have this sore spot on my gum." Mouth sores are common with chemotherapy, so they look but are not concerned.

Lunch, including lentil soup my mom brings up from the Au Bon Pain downstairs. I am about 10 bites into the soup when there is a knock on the door.

In comes a nurse from ENT (eye nose throat), wheeling a tall cart with tubes, drawers and a monitor. Imagine a movie in which the hero has been captured and is being held in a room. The door opens, and in comes a new character wheeling a cart. You don't even have to see the contents of the cart to know what's coming -- torture. It's kind of like that in the hospital room. When an unfamiliar face comes to your room with a large toolbox, there will be procedures.

The nurse explains that the CT scans showed lots of crud in my sinuses. Could be no big deal, could be a big problem; residue from chronic sinusitis, or a sign of an active infection. For the first day in many, my nasal passages are completely clear.

I abandon my lunch, get onto my bed, and submit to a very close detailed scoping tour of my nasal passages. First, the nurse sprays a couple of numbing agents up each nostril. Then, she sticks a flexible scope up one nostril and in much farther than I thought one could go. There are multiple cavities to explore, on each side. I could watch on the monitor, but I go with the ever-popular if-can't-see-it-maybe-it's-not-really-happening strategy. The nurse is looking for dark crusty stuff in particular, which if found could be very serious.

My mom, however, has a front-row seat and, with less personal involvement, is able to watch. She says the insides of my nasal cavities look amazingly clean and empty. (Thanks, Mom!) Fortunately, the nurse confirms that this is not just the biased opinion of a loving mother -- no dark crusty stuff, barely enough mucus to take a sample. All clear on the sinus front.

Back to lunch and just some more hanging out with my mom, relieved that the pneumonia didn't look serious and that my sinuses did not appear to be harboring any killer organisms.

Read Part 2