The procedure was rather simple: numb the area, stick in a needle and pluck out some sample tissue. Average run time for the even is 6 minutes.

But do not mistake simple for easy!

It takes a couple hours to prep, and about 30 minutes after they’ve rolled you into the room to cat scan you, mark out a map for the journey, then finally sedate you for the simple procedure.

And it is easy for those in support roles to pass off the fact that someone will be sticking a long metal needle into your internals and snatching out a few pieces of you.

All of this is of course challenging my meditation practice, my secular-buddhist beliefs, and what I’ve learned recently in regards to trauma and how the human brain functions (very poorly I’ll add).

One of the stand out expressions in my mind is “This too shall pass”, ie: all things are impermanent.

This means that sadness, pain, joy, happiness, cars, houses, pets….all things are impermanent, and it is in the clinging to them that we suffer.

So my advise to her was she only had to endure the needle for 6 minutes.

The time leading up to, and during the procedure seems insurmountable, and if you focus on the 6 minutes, you invite suffering.

However, if you hold to the idea that “this too shall pass”, you can (in theory) better deal with the situation, knowing that even this has an ending.

I’m not sure if it helped, but she made it through and is only a bit sore today.

Now we will wait a few days for test results, which themselves are not guaranteed to be definitive.

After gallons of blood and pints of pee have been sampled, tested and analyzed, we are no closer to knowing what it is, or even what it isn’t.

The symptoms are too vague and non-specific to definitely qualify as this thing or that thing, or NOT this or that.

I have confidence that these doctors are doing what they can, but I think we just live in a technological age where you think you can just put someone’s blood in a computer and it tell you what’s wrong.

Does the lack of identification indicate cancer, or indicate NOT cancer?

The doctor wouldn’t answer that question.

He did prescribe to “not worry”, and while worrying wont make the outcome any different, it’s hard not to speculate, plan or prepare for what might or might not be.

I guess it’s like dreaming about what you’d do if you won the lottery, something none of us will statistically need to worry about, but it’s difficult to stop your mind from wandering, and wondering.

We are keeping this a secret for now, but something is wrong with her liver.

She has been “sick” for some time now, 6-8 months really. A mysterious fever that comes and goes, responds to advil and her intake of water, of all things and a pain in her side.

None of her “doctors” did anything much, and I say “doctors” because she has only ever talked to a P.A. at first, who sent her to infectious disease doctor, who sent her back, then sent to a surgeon, then (finally) sent to the liver experts.

They have taken gallons of blood and other fluids and all tests come back negative for anything (except caffeine).

Does this indicate cancer or indicate NOT cancer? We find out tomorrow.

First we meet with the doctor to discuss test results, and maybe he has some insights, and then she goes for a biopsy.

The biopsy itself is “simple”: stick a needle in, pull a piece out. Average time 6 minutes.

It is not easy, however, to lay there awake knowing a 6 inch needle is poking into your side.

No one who gets cancer thinks it could happen to them. There isn’t always family history, there isn’t always environmental threats.

Some times people just get cancer.

In the void of any knowledge our minds swirl around possible outcomes.

Worst case, the cancer is somewhere else and has “landed” in her liver.

Less worse is liver cancer, which is actually rare.

Is liver disease “good”? Is hoping for liver disease the best option?

In 12 hours we get to decide which worst thing we get to hope for.