There are days I really need you on my time zone because I want to talk about something that I just can't talk to anyone else about but of course this only happens at 8 a.m. and I wouldn't dream of waking your household. And then I move on to the office or whatever, trying to wait it out, but my attention deficit kicks in and I don't remember that I wanted to talk to you until bedtime when I'm about to pass out from exhaustion.
Every 6 months, I go through my scanning and sonograms and poking and prodding, over about 4 - 5 different appointments. Today was the last of the tests before the appointment next week for my exam where my gynecological oncologist lets me know the results of all the tests. During the sonogram, they take so many pictures and keep moving around and typing and backing up and doing over or so it seems to me...so I was a little panicked, this morning. They totally should've done the test, then had me stay and talk to the doctor, letting him read the results right away. But no, I had to leave there imaging that all that typing was scary stuff and I was calling to tell you that I was terrified. I hate these fucking tests and I'm happily healthy until the moment I need to have a sonogram and then I'm dying again. Nice, positive attitude, eh? Of course there's the Everyday Normal Helene who thinks "this is really a pain in the ass, I need to get back to work, why are they wasting my time, there's nothing there." And then there's Panic Disorder Helene who's imagining her funeral and how sad my baby will be after I'm gone and will Jorge let my parents see Rachel often enough or will he give them a hard time and start fights and and and....
you get the picture.
Anyway, thanks for being there to let me vent and I know you're reading this and are at the other end of my spillage.
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