Monday turned up nothing. That is, the MRI did not turn up on Monday. I called at noon, not expecting anything but hoping to get on their radar quickly to get something by the end of the day.

Instead, the person who answered the phone said, “Friday? You had it on Friday? Well it is not here yet, so it is probably waiting for scanning and we have a backlog of scanning so it won’t be ready until Wednesday at least.”

Wednesday.

A more aggressive person would become grouchier, maybe be a bit more of a bitch, make noise. I’m not really like that, and what would that accomplish? My MRI is in their backlog. What makes me more special than anyone else in that backlog? Am I going to pitch a fit, demanding that they pull mine out (if that is even possible), pleading, “but thing is in my head, next to my brain!” So is everyone else’s thing. Some even have things in the main part of their brain. That’s this doctor’s specialty, things in people’s heads. I only have a possible pituitary microadenoma (not an actual Brain Tumor).

So, more waiting. Wednesday will be two and a half weeks since they first told me that one of my little gremlins took actual form and appeared on an MRI. Wednesday will be four and a half weeks since that first MRI. The first MRI was ordered back at the beginning of the semester, back when I was teaching about Napoleon, as I recall. We are now up to the Russian Revolution. The migraine that started this all took place on New Year’s Day. This has become a game of suspense.

My consolation is that this will not kill me. Not the waiting, not The Brain Tumor (whether it exists or not), not even the annoyance. It won’t even make me stronger.

I do think, however, that I should go out and buy some clay. I have a vision of my brain with the gremlin swinging from the pituitary gland as if he were Tarzan, laughing like a maniac. This is something that should be rendered in sculpture.