Mailman Chuck dropped off a letter in October from the imaging center saying I needed to come back in for additional testing. I’ve been called back before, but there was something about the tone of this letter that made me queasy. The Hubs was sure it was nothing more than a cyst.
As the technician started getting me in position for the most uncomfortable five minutes of my day, I made some corny joke followed by nervous laughter. Once I was contorted into the optimal position, I was told, “Don’t move.” I was fairly certain there is no way I could move! After a few more awkward positions and weak attempts at jokes, I was ushered into a side room to wait.
Reading a very old copy of Good Housekeeping left in the waiting area didn’t help pass the time or ease my mind. The technician returned to say that I needed to have an ultrasound done and asked if I could wait about 30 minutes. One ultrasound led to a second ultrasound that led to the statement that I needed to have a biopsy. At that moment, I was afraid.
For several days we waited on pins and needles, the biopsy results did not return in my favor. Stunned. I was simply stunned at what Dr. Ann was telling me. The Hubs immediately pulled me closer while he continued the conversation with Dr. Ann and I sobbed.
In a nutshell, that is how this journey started. We don’t know why God placed this path before us, but we trust his plan. I’m no longer afraid, but some days I am overwhelmed.
Thriving Through It…