D Day Minus 233 (July 18, 2009)

“Don’t get mad.” You said from the landline phone in Sterling.

“You did it. Didn’t you?” I nestled my shoulders back into the mountain of pillows on my bed in Bassett and muted my friend Joel McHale on The Soup.

“Yeah." You were chewing on something. “Katie and I looked at the scan last night.”

“Are you eating?” I said as I rolled my eyes and bit down on my left cheek.

“Cereal.” You said as you took another bite.

“So what did you see?” I thought of us looking at your scan last January, at Starbucks in Roanoke, when we picked up my electric teapot— just after your latest scan. I had my laptop with me so we thought we'd try to read it. We’d zoom in and out to get different views of the scan. There was red, purple, green and white interlaced throughout the scan. I was never sure what color was good or whether it was in the right spot. I had general anatomy but looking at layers and views and zooms was beyond me. You had just had your appendectomy a couple of weeks before so there was also activity from the surgery to consider. You kept asking me what I thought. Then I would ask you what you thought. We were the blind leading the blind or Dumb and Dumber.

“It’s back.” You said. I pressed the off button on the remote and threw it across the bed.

“We still don’t know everything Gregory Michael Jones.”

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