The other day I was sitting at the computer planning Christmas things while listening to some easy music on the radio. The sun was shining for the first time in ten days here in Nova Scotia and I was thinking that right now life’s pretty good. My children are all coming home for Christmas, we’re heading South for a couple of months and we’re both healthy. What more could a person ask for?

The incessant ringing of the phone interrupted my reverie. Who would be calling on the house phone at this time of day? Most of our callers use the cell phone number.

I checked the call display to make sure it was a legitimate call and not a telemarketer.

Oh! It was the IWK hospital in Halifax. There is only one reason anyone from the IWK would be calling our house. And my mind flashed back to a couple of years ago…

It was January 2015 when I ended up in hospital with Bell’s palsy. The doctors weren’t satisfied that it was just Bell’s palsy because of a few other symptoms I was presenting. I languished four days in hospital while waiting to have an MRI of my brain, with dye.

Pure joy.

Finally my big day arrived and I was wheeled to the X-ray department. Darn MRI machines give me claustrophobia so they dosed me with Ativan and put a cloth over my eyes. I wrote a blog in my mind while in that tube, with all its attendant noises.

Finally it was over.

The result was that I ‘just’ had Bell’s palsy BUT “We noticed a lesion on your brain.”


I said, “Calling it a lesion is just a gentle way of saying tumor, right?”

And they affirmed that was correct. And now because we have seen this tumor/lesion, you will have to be followed by a neurosurgeon. So now, in addition to having a doctor, chiropractor, massage therapist, dentist, gynecologist and gastroenterologist, I will also have a neurosurgeon.

When I visited my neurosurgeon a couple of months later, he told me that there was indeed a lesion/tumor on my brain, but it was small and there was nothing to do about it, save to monitor it by MRI every year to make sure it was not growing. Then he showed me a picture of my brain! It looked something like this:


He told me I could live my whole life and never have known about the tumor, unless, that is, if I started having wicked headaches and other nasty symptoms. It was only because of the MRI for my Bell’s palsy that they found it, and now that they know about it they have to monitor it. He said that in medical circles I was what they called VOMIT


                               Victim Of Medical Imaging Technology


To date I have had two MRIs and each time I wait anxiously for the results. So when I saw IWK on the call display I knew what was coming.

Bravely picking up the phone I said, “Hello”

It was Dr Walling, my neurosurgeon. After exchanging the requisite pleasantries about impending Christmas and the weather while my heart pounded louder and louder, he said, “There has been no change!”


Done for another year with my V.O.M.I.T.