BST11: "So, uh, you watch the races?"

Well this is a big day. So Im not too sure of how to set out describing it.

If memory serves me....

I'm pretty sure my appointment was first thing in the morning. It was a Thursday, and we were headed from 616 in Moneta, to 122 - all the way to Rocky Mount. Carilion Franklin memorial or whatever. Nice looking place, although I was a tad bit concerned about the life-flight helicopter landing pad in the parking lot. Not so much for myself, but for the unwitting person who parked their larger sized car in the spaces surrounding.

I think we left before dawn, but things were pretty dark for me anyway at that time, so Im not sure. I remember seeing Rocky Mount and thinking what a nice small town it was. Then next thing I know, Im in the hospital, awaiting my first ever CT scan.

And waiting. Not long, but the wait was interminable. So this guy calls out my name, and leads me back to the CT area. Heres what I remember:

Sitting next to this massive computer, as he typed in my answers to the usual questions. Any allergies, history of blah-blah.. I guess I was looking visibly nervous, because suddenly he changed tack - "So, uh, you watch the races?"

Well there went another 20 minutes of prep, speeding by as we talked about NASCAR and all related things. I don't remember anything except how cool the guy was. Then it was time to lay down and take it. I was amused that they had to use lazers to target my head, make sure it was properly aligned. The usual admonisions about not moving, no sneezing - that stuff. Then he told me the plan - 15 mins of pics normal, 15 with contrast.

Ok - Ive owned many a camera and a tv or 2, I know contrast is something you twiddle with when your picture is not quite right. Right?

Right?

Boy was I wrong - after the first 15 mins he slides me out, and proceeds to play "Let's pick a vein." Again, I am non-plussed as I can visibly SEE this whole thing going on. He slides up a tray, and pulls out what I would think to be a sterilized, wrapped can of WD-40. Well it was big enough, but no - this was the contrast. Then he tells me he has 2 of them for me, I'll be taking 100cc's of contrast.

Lovely, had you told me this sooner I could have made alternate arrangements for someone to come stand in for me.

Slips the needle in, unlocks the hypo-side, locks in the contrast keg #1. He says it could burn a bit, tingle if you will. Nope, not me - nooo. I get immediate and total ice flowing through my veins. If you stabbed me with a penguin, I still wouldnt have this chill this deep inside me.

By the time he empties #2, Im tracing the path of ice water through my body. We wait, he has headed back to the monolith computer to time the progress - and then he announces that we are going back in.

Re-lined up, and I can hear the machine spinning inside the big donut. I can track it by the sound. Reminds me of a NIN concert, which was a good thing. It had a beat, it had a lead track. I could close my eyes and envision some electro-heavy band banging this out in the studio. I was happy - well, happy enough considering my arm had been brutally invaded by steel.

And yet to this day I have a dream of cybernetic implants. Tell me that makes sense.

Allright, this fun was over. I bid goodbye to the dude, and we headed back home. If I recall correctly - my appointment was for 9am, so we were back on the road. I think we stopped somewhere, maybe the Kroger in Rocky Mount for something - I dont know, I stayed in the car. Im pretty sure we stopped at DQ (the one infront of Lewis' office) before heading home.

So if you figure we hit the road home about 10:15, stopped twice, we probably got in around noon.

There was a message waiting. Dr. Lewis had the breakdown from the tech on what was on the CT films.

I was headed for UVA the following day. I had a meeting with the head (HEAD!) of the Neurosurgery Department. One Dr. Kassell (I believe).

Now, Rocky Mount was maybe an hour drive, UVA would be nearly 3 hours. There was no definitive answer as to why, but something on the CT had them concerned - although they wanted a specialist's opinion.

So my parents had to drive back to Rocky Mount and get the films, and prepare for a drive in the morning.

I packed my backpack again, tapes/cds/batteries/walkman.

What the hell was going on, I had no idea. But what was currently going on was ugly. The pain was beginning to ramp up to the same levels I had back in NY.

Not fully there yet, but getting there.

And this is where it begins to get really good. This is the part that you should keep your eye on. Welcome to the beginning of everything.