So, I drive into the city. Not a flake in the sky until I get to Foster & Nagle, and then it's barely doing anything. Get to my parents house, walk in to the house in the middle of an argument about God-know-what. This whole health situation has been slowly effecting my family in so many ways. I can't imagine what goes on between my parents day-in, day-out... couldn't park in front of the house because someone has parked a dark gray 1990 Chevy Cavalier with no plates or sticker that they're trying to sell for $1200 right in front of my parents house. PISSES ME OFF. It's been there since at least Sunday. Anyway, the snow continues but never accumulates... the streets are just wet...

I love driving down Chicago Avenue in Oak Park. It's great just after a snow, to see the streets that are lined with the old-growth trees, just covered in snow. And there's a ton of great houses. BIG houses. Carol has a house that she loves that's on a corner lot. I think it was up for sale recently... can't remember how many millions of dollars it was going for... one of these days I'm going to have to go to the Frank Lloyd Wright house.. I pass it on these trips to the medical center...

Finally got to Loyola Medical Center. Still no snow on the ground - a good thing. Dad goes back to the CatScan lab in the basement. We were there for almost an hour, getting him signed-in and prepped. Then we have to leave - we're going to go to a separate CT lab back on the first floor. Typical of a super large medical facility, it takes a while to finally get there. We're in part of the hospital we've never been in before. We go down one corridor, and there's a brand new art exhibit hanging on the walls (it was new according to the nurse that escorted us to this CT lab). The exhibit was "The Ten Commandments - 10 pieces of canvas with abstract painting on each that is supposed to depict each commandment. We didn't pay too much attention, but I just didn't get it.

We finally make it to the CT Lab - "CT Scanner #4". We all wait out in a very tiny, dark waiting room. Eventually the nurse takes dad in. It's 12 noon. Mom and I ask if we could go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat & drink. The nurse says sure, it should take about an hour. Off to the VERY crowded cafeteria for a quick lunch. We sat by a window and watched the snow falling on the patio area. Still no accumulation, its just wet - puddles everywhere. We go back at about 20 to 1 and find out that the actual procedure hasn't started yet. They were just cranking-up when we had got there. Apparently, they had to confer with Dr. Bastian before they could do the actual needle biopsy. All of a sudden, Dad gets scanned, they look at the shots, another doctor goes in, gets the tissue sample, and walks out to go and make sure he's got a good sample. It just happened probably within the span of 5 minutes. I stepped out of the room for a minute or two, just to walk down the corridor to see what was down the hall (The Heart Failure Lab, actually) when I saw the doctor going back in. I started walking back and the doctor was coming back out and said "We're all done". When I walked into the waiting area, the was another doctor that was talking to my mom, in broken English. All I caught at the end of the conversation was something about the tumor had grown, and "wrapped around" something, and was now down below the stoma. This sounds bad. The tumor has grown since the last CT? Mom helps dad get dressed and we head on home. Still snowing, still no accumulation. I drop them off, and head home myself.

This is sounding worse than I what I heard from Dr. Emami just two weeks ago today.

I'm feeling scared. This is new to me. Mom had said to me in the waiting room that she "knew that people with 'this' never come out of it" and that she's taking it a day at a time and she's doesn't want to think about it much because it bothers her too much.

I understand.