It has been a busy couple of days. The imaging tests were all uneventful. I even slept through most of the bone scan. The most eventful part was when I opened the washroom door and found a man sitting on the toilet. (I think he and I were equally disturbed by that brief encounter, although he might have found it slightly more disturbing if I’d told him I was going to blog about it.)
During my bone scan, the technician phoned a doctor, gave a patient’s name and birthdate, and reported he’d found a mass in her brain. It seemed strange to me that I knew about this total stranger’s brain tumor before she did. And then I started wondering if the next patient to lie on this bed would hear him telling my doctor that I have a tumor in my spine. (I myself will have to wait until June 8th to find out.)
I’ve dealt with quite a few different medical people over the past little while, and I find it interesting to note how differently they treat me. Nobody has been outright rude to me, but some are just civil and detached. They don’t look me in the eye, they don’t interact with me beyond the absolute minimum required to carry out their duties, and I get the feeling they don’t think of me as fully human. They’re just processing me.
But others have been warm and friendly and have taken the time to do a little more than they have to. Like Lisa yesterday, at the Queensway-Carleton Hospital. Her job was to give me an injection in preparation for the bone scan. But she asked me what other imaging tests still remained to be done, and when I told her I didn’t yet have an appointment for the MRI, she made a phone call and got me that appointment. I thought that was awfully kind of her.
Speaking of kind, Debbie, Bonnie and Grace came over yesterday afternoon and spent a couple of hours transforming my goutweed patch into a garden! It’s lovely. There are hostas, forget-me-knots, bloodroot, a bleeding heart, a jack-in-the-pulpit, and some other things I can’t remember. They also noted that the garden gets more sun than they expected based on my description, so we left some room for a few herbs.
Remember when I said I was sure some good would come from me having cancer? There have been several good things already, and this garden is one of them. (Thank you kindly, my green-thumbed friends.)
It was a pleasure to meet my imaginary friend Grace, whom I’ve known online for quite a while now, but have never actually met in real life. All our prior interactions had been though my blog, email, Facebook and Farm Town, plus a couple of cards via snail mail. Sometimes when you meet someone in real life after a long online friendship, you’re surprised by how different they are from what you expected. Not this time. Grace was exactly what I expected. I was happy about that.
Name That Sheep
Here’s the Sheep with No Name grazing in the Garden of Hope.
Well, the obvious name for your new sheep is Hope. Can she withstand the weather? She looks at home in situ.
I googled gout weed but misspelled it as goat weed, and received lots of hits for “horny goat weed” which is what my SO takes for his aging libido. LOL!
Holding you and Hope in my thoughts.
JUNE 8TH?? OMG. And further OMG for giving that patient’s brain tumour news within your earshot. This is all so totally unacceptable and mind-boggling. If I was you or your mother or spouse or something I’d be raising Cain. CAIN, I tells ya!! I’m glad the last couple of days are behind you though and that you have a lovely garden now.
I agree that the sheep should be called Hope and she does look right at home in your garden!
She looks like a Hope to me too.
Gosh, zoom, but you come up with the best titles. I can never resist them.
And it sounds as though you have some wonderful friends.
Silky. Silk has stronger fibres than steel and you need that strength in your Garden of Hope right now.
Don’t know why but the sheep looks like a “Molly”
I like Molly too! Molly Sheep of the Garden of Hope.
Oh Zoom, what wonderful friends!
I had a brief tour of Bonnie’s lovely garden this afternoon — your new plants came from a good home ;0)
So happy I hadn’t misrepresented myself online; when you are a birdwatching, orchid-growing, short, round knitter with bifocals it’s hard not to over-inflate one’s self!
Enjoy the view, g
Agnes has great symbolic significance. Ste. Agnes is the patron saint of gardeners and is often depicted holding a lamb. I’m not Catholic, but find hagiography fascinating.
Congrats on your new garden, would love to see more pics.
Watch your life unravel? Who says?
maybe your sheep is the Pansy you always wanted! Enjoy your garden. It was a pleasure helping plant it.
Abby, I love the name Hope. She doesn’t live in the garden though, she was just having her photo shoot there. She lives in the living room.
XUP – I managed to get the appointment changed to June 1st.
Oma, she looks good there but she’s not made for outdoor life, I’m afraid.
Skdadl, you’re right, I do have some wonderful friends. I’m very lucky.
Melinda, I have a picture of me standing in front of a sign that says Zoom – light as feathers, strong as steel!
Valerie, Molly’s good too but I don’t think of it as a sheep’s name. More like a dog’s name.
Soire, maybe it’s because I know of a puppy named Molly, and she’s black.
Carmen, absolutely the best.
Grace, I know, isn’t Bonnie’s garden gorgeous? Did you have garden envy? I don’t even like gardening and I had garden envy. Thank you again, my professional gout-removing friend. (By the way, you’re not even a little bit round.)
Tobique Demo, I’m not Catholic either but I used to love looking up saints. I collected (and still have) old Catholic saint cards. I was leaning towards Hope until I saw your suggestion. There was a definitive mental click. She will be Agnes of the Garden of Hope.
Tom: unraveling isn’t always a bad thing.
Bonnie, thank you again. I love that for years to come I will be able to look at that garden and think of that day.
I recently waiting 7 weeks for the results of a specialized eye scan and the verdict of whether or not surgery would restore my vision. It was the most stressful time for me. I know it’s not nearly on the same scale as what you are going through so I can only imagine the stress levels.
I met two bloggers in Athens, Greece and both are exactly the way I thought they would be. One of them I’ve met twice now and we are probably going to be lifelong friends. I can hardly wait to see her again this fall. She’s waiting too for all the stuff I bring here that she can’t get over there like Jelli Bellies, can you imagine…feel good:)
Sheep name: La La as in Living in La La land and/or as in La La ….I can’t hear you:):):):)
sending hugs to help you thru your journey!!!!
Hah! I know Lisa!
The technician should not be making that call where you can hear I’m pretty sure it’s a violation of PHIPA.
Love that sheep! In fact, I’m not much into sheep but I think The Man needs one for next to the rose bush.
She strikes me as a Gabby. I don’t know why.
Take care!
“he might have found it slightly more disturbing if I’d told him I was going to blog about it” HAHAHAHAAAAA! Oh my god, I laughed so hard. Poor guy.
Your garden sounds delightful and the Agnes the sheep is adorable.
[…] head around it. People were really kind to me. Debbie and Bonnie and Grace came over and created a garden of hope for me. GC and I planted our vegetable garden. GC was my […]