But that’s not what the doctor’s receptionist said. Instead, it was “The doctor wants you to come in to discuss the results.”
That certainly changed the tone of the day.
Why can’t they alleviate all worry and just tell you over the phone what they want to say, for cripe’s sake? Instead I have to wait five days for an appointment to open up.
Of course I tell myself that it’s nothing. I tell my husband that, too. And my best friend. I don’t want to tell my children; why worry them for nothing? But my mind, that amazing internal computer that is capable of split second processing won’t let me stick with just the positive thoughts.
No, it takes me to all the possibilities. Makes me think about the what-ifs?
- I don’t want my children to have to face something scary.
- Who would take care of my dogs?
- Chemo scares the living you-know-what out of me.
- Why not me? Why would I be so special not to have this happen to me?
- I’m not ready to go anywhere.
- I want to live to be one hundred – a healthy 100.
Today is Saturday. I’ll be back home on Monday and at the doctor’s office at 10 A.M.
It’s going to be just fine.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
I wonder if this is what every woman goes through when the phone rings with this kind of news.