And Now, in the Medical News . . .

Almost four weeks ago, I discovered that my body was doing something it should not have been. Nothing shocking, or alarming . . . just . . . out of place.

So being a person of my time, I Googled this symptom, and found that it can betoken anything from stress or a mild infection, all the way up (or down) to cancer.

And that one should see one's physician about it as soon as possible. Which I did, in the next few days.

Findings from that examination were inconclusive. Actually, the test needed could not be run on me in the doctor's office. So I was sent for a sonogram at the regional medical center.

That came off on the 1st. The tech told me I'd have my results back in "one or two days." And that usually, if everything's fine and negative, they won't phone you at all.

I waited the 2nd. No word. The 3rd. No word.

Didn't consider myself out of the woods yet. "One or two days" can stretch to three and even four, if the lab is busy. And Friday the 4th was a holiday and Saturday and Sunday were, well, Saturday and Sunday. A friend of mine who's been through breast cancer and come successfully out the other side told me I should be sure and call the doctor's office regardless, to find out. Said she knew a woman who didn't know her test had come up positive until the hospital called her six months later to learn what treatment she'd undergone for the disease she wasn't aware she had.

Yes, I told F*, I was going to call on the Monday anyway. Count it as the third day.

And I did. Left a message at the voice prompt for "test results." Got a call back a couple hours later: "Oh, yes, your results are on the doctor's desk. He'll look at them and get back with you tomorrow."

No word on Tuesday. Was it because there was nothing to tell? After all, for the past two and a half weeks I haven't observed the symptom that drove me to the doctor's office three weeks ago. If I have any pain, it's my digestive system doing my worrying for me-- a task my brain never asked it to undertake-- and it varies with what and when I eat-- whether I'm occupied with work and other people or sitting around with an idle mind--which all sounds like stress to me.

But Wednesday morning, early yesterday, I got a call from the physician's nurse. She said, "The doctor wants to make an appointment with you to come to his office to discuss the options on your sonogram."

The appointment is set for 9:40 tomorrow morning.

But "options." What's this "options"? Will I have "options" indeed, or is that just doctor-speak for "Either have major surgery tomorrow or expect to drop dead in two weeks"?

I guess I'll find out. Meanwhile, I'm mentally practicing being intelligent and receptive of whatever he'll have to say. I don't want to sit there looking stupid-and-stunned or launching myself into the hinterlands of denial.

And I'm praying there will be nothing to go into denial about.