My ultrasound is scheduled for Wednesday at 10am.
It's a funny thing, when you are receiving big news during Thanksgiving week. You link the two very directly.
If it's good news, YOU GIVE THANKS DOUBLY HARD. "To hear this now, of all weeks!"
If it's bad news, you sort of stew over the irony of it all. You probably feel a little extra sorry for yourself. "To hear this now, of all weeks!"
So, on Wednesday, I have to fast. On Thursday, I stuff my face. On Friday I will probably get really drunk. On Saturday I'll be sick. On Sunday I'll go to church. By Monday, I'll be locked up, and everyone will be unfriending me on Facebook.
I don't know what it means, either.
For the record, I'm doing fine. (At least I feel that way as I write this.) This could be just a scare. If it's not, they caught it early, right? Nothing a little chemo can't kill. We'll be back in business by mid-2011. Not to sound blase, but how else are you supposed to process this kind of thing?
And: I do have a ton to be thankful for. More than most people I know. I mean, my God, look at me a year ago! I was practically dead. Today I feel amazing: strong, peppy, alive! I swam a mile with Neil last night, and it felt really good to get back in the water. (even though I was getting passed by a woman whose suit had a molded shelf bra... ok, I'm out of shape.)
Today Seattle is covered in a beautiful blanket of snow. My brother is in town, my parents arrive on Thursday. It's going to be okay.