When Todd Goes Low, We Go to... Houston?
Sometimes I get tired of delivering bad news. I think I'm getting better at it, or maybe it's just that I've developed emotional callouses. It also makes me think of those who have to deliver the bad news to me. I had a PET CT today. Hope you aren't claustrophobic. The results were... not good. And, as per usual, my amazing brother, who happens to be a radiologist, looked at the scan and told me what was up. That has to be hard for him. Wanting to give me good news but needing to tell me what's on the scan. So, what was on the scan? Those glowy bits are... bad ... right? A lot of Todd. In my liver. On my spine again, which explains the nasty back pain I've been experiencing lately--I had really hoped I was just being paranoid. I have another vertebra that's on the point of collapsing. L3, I think. I'm just working my way down the spine. Cancer in my abdominal lymph nodes (there's a word for that, but I'm not smart enough to remember what it is,
