Six Letter Word [Kaylor]

September 2016 (Part 3)

Today started out so different than yesterday. I feel like huge chunks of my yesterday were lost in processing everything that's happening, the crazy overwhelming amount of scary stuff, but also the beauty of Karlie's simple proposal. That, I remember perfectly. I woke up with a smile on my face this morning, thinking of seeing the rings on our fingers, of seeing her smile. But there's so much I didn't really retain. I know Karlie scheduled me for a bunch of tests today, to find out the truth. It's not as completely mind-numbing as it was yesterday, but I feel like I'm still catching up on my own life. There's stuff I needed to do to prep for the tests today that she guided me through without even realizing.

I thought she was just being super healthy, feeding me a really low-carb lunch and dinner. That kind of thing happens when you date a health-nut model during fashion week. Usually she'll throw in a carb, or something sweet for me, but I wasn't really paying attention. This morning when she handed me a huge bottle of water for breakfast, nothing else, I figured I'd better find out what I was in for.

Three main tests. A PET scan, accompanied in Karlie's explanation by a lame joke that I should be taking Mere and Dibbles for that. Haha, a PET scan, get it!? That one prevents me from eating carbs the day before, and having anything but water this morning. They'll inject me with some kind of sugar-based tracer that will get picked up by any cancerous cells in my body, which the doctors will be able to see on the scan, and which will tell them if they need to get biopsies from places other than the thyroid nodule. While they're waiting for the tracer to settle in, they're going to do a laryngoscopy, which is where they feed a camera on the end of a tube up my nose and down my throat to watch my vocal chords move. I've had one before. Most singers have. It's not fun, I don't recommend it for giggles. But they want to make sure nothing in my thyroid is affecting my vocal chords, or the laryngeal nerve that controls them. I guess it runs close to the thyroid so they want to be extra cautious because of what I do for a living. After that, and the PET scan, they'll let me eat although after the tube has been in my throat all I'll want to swallow is soup. After lunch they'll actually do the biopsy of the nodule, and any other areas indicated by the PET results.

It's going to be a long day. Karlie told me all of this yesterday, but somehow I didn't really hear any of it. My brain just shut off for a while. But she's going to be there to hold my hand when they'll let her, and that means the world to me. And when it's all over, we're going to the courthouse to get our marriage license. And the elation I feel about that almost outweighs the fact that I'm getting tested for cancer today. Almost. I am actually looking forward to walking into a public place with Karlie's hand in mine and her ring on my finger. Even if it is a hospital. For the first time in almost two years, it doesn't matter who sees us, or what they think. By Monday, everyone will know we're a couple. And that's freeing. I mean, I'm gonna take a shit-ton of heat from a lot of directions. I know that. But I hope that the majority of people will be happy for me, for us. And if they aren't, I know my team will do their best to shield me from that.

What they can't shield me from, is the mounting anxiety I felt driving to the cancer institute. It's only six minutes by car from the Cornelia house. It felt much further, yet all too close. Karlie held my hand the whole way, gently rubbing her thumb back and forth, occasionally lifting my hand to her lips so she could gently kiss right next to her ring. Her way of reminding me that we're together in this. Rolling up to the entrance, I was suddenly possessed with the desire to pull an Olivia going into the carrier and splay my arms and legs out and refuse to let them pull me out of the door of the car. But of course, I didn't. I let my fiancée help me out the door like the gentlewoman she is, holding my hand to keep me from tripping over my own feet. I let her open the door to the building for me. And I let her wrap her arm across my back and guide me to the reception desk, where we checked in and got directions to the elevator.