This morning I saw my liver for the first time. After I got those weird numbers back, family practice referred me to a gastroenterologist. (That is the longest word I have ever typed with my thumbs.) He ordered a bunch of tests, so many that the phlebotomist offered me some juice after she was done drawing all the required vials of blood, and an abdominal ultrasound.
The ultrasound was today. I was a little nervous about it. The only person in my extended family who also has a cardiac arrhythmia has a polycystic liver, and I've been wondering if we might share those genes. The waiting room was teeming with people today. I listened to them checking in and I thought again about what an enormous blessing good health is, how easy it is to take it for granted. The tech called me back and took a whole slew of pictures. It's easier to decipher fetus parts than liver parts, I must say. Afterward I said, "I know you can't say much, but did you see any signs of pending implosion?" In her expert opinion, I look perfectly normal. We'll see if the radiologist agrees, but I think her willingness to express an opinion is a good sign.
I spent the rest of the day feeling grateful-- for my faintly sore muscles after Sunday's Pilates class, for capable hands and for a pleasant run. Then the cold I thought might be lurking attacked. I'm not seriously complaining, but the timing is funny. Health! Strength! Happiness! Thank you, God! ...snot ...fatigue ...ear weirdness... Grateful in all things, right?