Caveat: 뿡 뿡 뿡, 뿡 뿡 뿡, 뿡 뿡 뿡

I decided to walk to the Cancer Center. I actually live that close – it’s about 3 km and it seemed like a good way to try to meditate and clear my head before the procedures.

Here is a picture of the National Cancer Center as I approach from the west.

Just past the highrise part is the main entrance.

My MRI and CT scans were completed without too much incident. Right as they were happening, it was quite intense – I likened it spending an hour inside a running washing machine while having scary, cold substances injected into you. They set up this IV apparatus on my hand, for quick, convenient injection.

It really only hurt when they were injecting the “contrast media” – at which point it was definitely painful. But in the MRI machine especially, it was quite a long time – about 40 minutes. I tried hard to keep my mouth and tongue still and tried to practice my anapana (breathing control) that I learned some years ago during my meditation training. I didn’t really succeed, so then I was making lists in my mind.

Afterward, I felt like crying – everything felt so overwhelming. Partly, I’d just undergone this experience after fasting since 6 am, and I’ve been pushing hard lately. I went into this little canteen they have in the hospital and bought some apple juice and sat in a corner and tried to think about something happy.

So I decided to walk to work – it’s just up the road a few kilometers from the cancer center. I felt kind of woozy from the stuff they’d injected into me, but I figured I could walk it off – and I did.

I hadn’t really planned to go to work today. They were surprised to see me there. But I told my boss, “I just want to feel normal. I just want to keep my routine.” I spent time trying to organize my desk. I wrote some emails to relatives.

Then I went into my BISP1 class – even though Gina was scheduled to replace me. She said, “Are you sure?”

I said yes – I wanted to see them.

Helen said, “You always complain about them.” This is true.

I said, “Well, today I want to complain about them some more.”

I walked into the classroom, and all 6 of the kids (4th through 6th grade) where on the raised stage part of the front of the classroom. While doing something resembling PSY’s latest dance, in vague synchrony, they sang “뿡 뿡 뿡, 뿡 뿡 뿡, 뿡 뿡 뿡” to the tune of the Star Wars “Imperial March.” Keep in mind that 뿡 [ppung] is Korean for “fart noise.” So they’re singing “fart fart fart” as if Star Wars were taking place, while dancing on the stage.

This is how my class started. It was excellent throughout, although I think the ladies at the front desk felt it was too loud.