Diagnosis +16

So today was the dreaded ultrasound.  Yesterday featured the beginning of "prep" for the EUS exam, which consisted of a delicious laxative which I enjoyed over ice.

I won't describe what was in the "Fleet" box, nor the various horrible connotations of the box's contents.  But no matter how bad it is in your imagination, the reality was worse!

So after a "light diet" yesterday, and a long night, it was off this morning at 6am to my new favorite place - the GI center on Weisgarber, where I matriculated with a class full of other probees, all looking appropriately glum.

The nurses & prep staff were all quite pleasant - it was a different crew than was there for the last exam, leading me to conclude through my excellent deductive reasoning that there are different sets of staff for the different types of exam.  I plead with the anesthesiologist to give me Versed instead of Propofol, but nothing doing.   I got the dang ol' Michael Jackson drug again.

When I woke up, Elizabeth was being brought back to the recovery area.  I resisted the urge to belt out a selection of Javert's songs from Les Miserables, sparing the staff (and Elizabeth).  I continued to answer "single malt scotch" when they asked me if I wanted something to drink.  Which might have been funny last time but didn't bring in the guffaws I was hoping for.

They didn't want me to take a picture lying there on the gurney, but I snapped this awesome selfie in the changing room:

Anyway, the upshot is that the tumor has grown into the wall, and there is some indication that it is into a lymph node, which is not too good.  This means that the course of radiation and chemo will have to precede surgery.  The good news is that the tumor hasn't gotten into any other organs (bladder, prostate, etc.).

Now for a day of "rest" and a night of heavy drinking.  I'll take that single malt scotch now!