Don’t you hate the waiting game? You get a test done, and they send you home with, “oh, your doctor will know in a few days.”
Really, how about me? Scared to death of what the results are, even hearing good news would cause me to cry.
I had to go in for a follow-up CT scan, because they found nodules on my lung a few months ago. They wanted to see if they changed or remain the same. There’s good chances that it’s nothing; but that nagging little voice in your head, “what if, what if, what if?”
What if it’s worse than you thought?
I have a lot of medical problems, so I’m a pro when it comes to all things medical. But this is the first time I’ve had to WAIT for results. Before, it was always my parents, and I was off in la-la land. Now it’s me, chewing my nails, anxiously vacuuming the living room for the 100th time. My husband is optimistic, and he doesn’t understand why I’m freaking out. And it’s true, freaking out won’t change anything. But I see ahead. The bigger picture.
Perhaps I shouldn’t. I should take it one day at a time. Come to it when we come to it. Right?