So my head is spinning with thoughts about how they would just tell me, "all's ok, see you in a year" if indeed all were ok, so somethin's up. I'm no fool. Naturally my head races to the absolute most horrific bad case scenario and I find myself wishing I weren't alone. Isn't that the way bad news is delivered - with someone who cares and supports you by your side, ready to hand you a tissue or at least pat your hand? Inside my head someone is screaming "shouldn't they have told me to bring backup??!!"
So I begin to look at this magazine, thumbing madly and there's an article by an author (I know none of her books) that is all about the house she and her husband have near Savannah in a spot I love. All of a sudden I'm feeling more relaxed, breathing deeply, seeking salt air...
I love being surprised by calm.
What a gift.
However, I did not finish the article before the doctor came in with the films, the explanation, the plan for another diagnostic next week..
And I don't know why this is such a big deal (Baptist roots?) but I took the magazine with me.
I need to finish that article and hear this author describe moving to and visiting and being in the place I love.
On a happier note, for the first time ever in my whole life, I have written a song! No, Two...
and a third is in progress...thought it was done, but no. Feels right, feels freeing. I think I may like this.
Many thanks to so many of my friends who have encouraged.
A good week, overall...last Friday's performance at the art gallery was sweet and fun and this Saturday there is a house concert where I'm the main attraction...woot.
Yes, of course I'll return the magazine when I go back next week.
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