Bleah

Today, I'm going to get a neck ultrasound. I *hate* this procedure. It's not as bad as the needle biopsy (huge needles jabbed in my neck? no, thanks!), but in terms of anxiety, it's worse than the surgery, for me. By the end of twenty minutes or so in which someone is pressing hard on my neck, I feel so violated and deeply endangered (as though someone had been choking me for twenty minutes) that I usually spend the next few hours kind of shellshocked.

I think I was wise not to schedule myself to return to work after the procedure. Bleah.

(I'm even less keen on it today than usual, because all my blood tests say there's no cancer left in my body, and so part of me wants to be all "Okay, then. Then I don't have to have the ultrasounds any more, right? I mean, there's nothing to see! Move along, move along.")

Bleah.