Test Results

I had my conference with my doctor this morning, and I was surprised to find I didn't have anything to be surprised about.

After all, three weeks ago when the nurse practitioner sent me for the sonogram, she did say I'd most likely be going for a biopsy thereafter. I mean, if nothing had shown up on the sonogram, where'd the initial symptom come from?

Only thing different is that the kind of biopsy I'm being sent for will entail my going under general anesthesia, not a local plus a head drug to send me into LaLa Land. I don't mind that for me-- I deal with anesthesia well enough. But it certainly adds to the cost.

The doctor was good-- or factual-- enough to say that the possibility of cancer is way down low on the list. That's a nice little sop to quiet the kishkas.

I'm to hear next week when the biopsy will be. And see how it goes from there.

After I left the doctor's office, I sat on the banks of the river, reporting in to my friends Frieda* and Hannah*, and watching the boats at their moorings. Something very peaceful about boats, I always think, whether they're going any place or not . . .