No, I'm not talking about the impending fourth snowstorm in as many weeks to pummel us again, but rather the looming doom I always feel during this time of year....the dreaded MRI.

Nine days from now to be exact, I'll get strapped into that all too familiar hollow tube and get shot up with enough gadolinium to rival the Fourth of July. All in the name of ensuring my ex-roommate aka the baseball-sized meningioma brain tumor I had evicted seven years ago, isn't back and back with a vengeance. Last year I had a scare--the suspected residual tumor or scar tissue--doctors still can't determine which it is-- indicated change. Not enough for my neurosurgeons (never thought I'd say that in my life time, I have a team of neurosuregeons at my disposal.) to be concerned at the time. So I'm on WAW or Wait and Watch as us brain tumor survivors call it. On the upside of having a brain tumor, I've mastered an entirely new lingo.

Wait for what? For the ex-roommate to defiantly proclaim its presence? Watch it move its prized possessions back in and get accustomed to former cushy and comfortable surroundings?

I certainly hope not, but it's not up to me to decide. I'm comforted by the fact that if my tumor ever decides to rally in cells and grow, I know what to expect. I'm a brain surgery veteran with 15 hours of grueling and delicate surgery under my thin-skinned skull. I have the upside down question mark scar to prove it.

Oh no not again is right and hopefully next Friday will yield two pieces of great news--my ex is obeying its restraining orders and we're not in for adare I say it, sixth storm.

To be continued...In the meantime, the countdown is on. In T-3 and counting, Curveball: When Life Throws You a Brain Tumor will debut on April Fools-no joke! More details at www.lizholzemer.com