Part 14: Beating the Odds

The woman turned her head, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply as the assistant released the blue dye into her system. A warm sensation quickly passed throughout her entire body. Initially, the nerd inside her was intrigued by the biological workings happening in her circulatory system at that moment, but the intrigue soon subsided. The thought that it was happening to her was disturbing, so she tried not to think about it and instead imagined herself relaxing on a warm beach. In reality she was laying on her back in a cold room tucked under a stack of white hospital blankets making her way towards the buzzing machine that would soon document her insides. She moved closer and closer when, suddenly, it all stopped.

“We need you to remove your bra and underwear,” echoed a voice over the intercom.

“Huh?” the woman replied, unsure if anyone could hear her as she was all alone in the room. She was confused by the request. This was a CT scan not a medical examination. She was pretty sure she could keep her clothes on.

“My underwear?” the woman asked the assistant entering the room and walking towards her.

“No—underwire. The underwire of your bra is causing interference,” said the assistant.

They had asked her at the beginning if she had any metal on and she had confidently assured them that she was good to go. Before she left her hospital room, she made sure all of it was gone. Apparently she forgot something.

The staff re-situated her and restarted the scans. It was painless. Her only complaint was that the room was freezing. The issued hospital gowns didn’t offer much warmth. The staff graciously offered her some warm blankets and she obliged. Then, they wheeled her back up to her hospital room where her husband and in-laws were waiting for her.

A few hours more hours of waiting passed and finally the CT scan results came back. Everyone held their breaths as they listened attentively to the doctors words: “The scans show no sign that the cells have spread. It is all contained within the uterus.”

A sigh of relief filled the room.

The doctor continued, “Based on these findings, we have diagnosed you with non-metastatic gestational trophoblastic neoplasia.”

The woman understood, but everyone else in the room looked a bit lost. The doctor translated, “Pretty much this form of the disease is invasive, but it’s not spreading and it’s not cancerous.”

More sighs of relief followed…and hugs…and tears…and smiles.

Finally, the woman could rest easy knowing that the cells weren’t attacking her brain, or any other part of her body for that matter. After two months of succumbing to what felt like the minutest odds, she was encouraged to know the odds were now moving back into her favor. Experience had taught her to mistrust potential good news, but she wasn’t going to let experience steal her joy in this moment. Thank you, Lord!