It seems we are always waiting.
Maybe it has been said too many times before, and maybe I never completely grasped the reality of the amount of time I would spend in an altered state of self-inflicted fantasy of what could be in the suspended moment a question is put out out and remains unanswered. The wait is uncomfortable, because in the wait, we create the worst scenarios and play them in a loop inside our minds. We think of the news, how we will take it, and then we check the phone. We do this knowing it hasn’t rang.
The test wasn’t so bad. I arrived in the waiting room an hour early for blood tests. The endless chatter of soaps and morning talk shows echoed through the waiting room, and finally, my name was called.
I put on my gown and I waited.
The biopsy was not so bad, either. As I was waiting, the procedure was explained to me, in detail, as well the tools. The doctor arrived a while later, and lidocaine was injected into my first breast. A large needle was inserted and a device was put inside of that needle, and they put that into the actual spot they saw on the ultrasound. I did not really feel much, I heard a snapping sound and they extracted what they had just clamped on and cut off. Then they did the next breast, and I waited for the mammogram.
After that, I went home and waited for the phone call.
I missed the phone call.
So, I waited for the return.
As I waited, and I made scenarios, not one was of a positive outcome.
Then, the phone call came.
Everything was benign.
This is the best news ever.
The thing is, it is now time to stop waiting.
So I am.
What the biopsy looked like: