Remember a few months ago, when I went to the doctor because my face was numb and I thought it was a pulled muscle or something and he said no no, you have some horrid brain thing and I went two or three weeks thinking I might have some sort of horrid brain thing and then it turned out to be nothing?
So, first of all, I cracked a tooth this week, which I know for the rest of normal society would be like, "Ugh. I have to go to the dentist. Yuck."
For me, in the meantime, I am half hoping to be stuck dead by lightning before my Wednesday appointment, I will have trouble sleeping until it gets here, and the day of I have to take Xanax. Just writing about it now I am starting to shake a little.
I am not pretty about the dentist.
Then, today I called home to check my messages to see if Ruby's test results came back (and for those of you who know me in real life who keep emailing me about her, she is not dying or anything. She is just old. She is going to be okay, for now). There was one message.
"Hello, June, this is the mammogram center calling."
I was all, hunh. Did I leave my coat there or something? Seriously. That is how in denial I was. My coat. Did I leave my coat there. "Please call us at your earliest convenience."
Well, guess what? My earliest convenience turned out to be right that second. And they told me they found "a density" in my test and need to do another test before they turn in their final report.
"Okay," I said. "How scared do I need to be?"
"Well," said the woman, "the results say a density of bluh de bluh bluh, with a bloobidy bloo bloo and other medical things that I am saying at 45 miles an hour because I am as sensitive as sandpaper, but it also says it doesn't look like a malignancy. I call about eight woman a day with this sort of thing."
"Um-hmm. And how many of them die of breast cancer?" I asked her.
"Your doctor, Dr. Yow? Yooo–"
"Yoo," I snapped.
"Yoo — can tell you more. He has these results too." So my hysterical you-have-a-tumor doctor has waited a WEEK and hasn't called me about my "density"?
I made an appointment for NEXT TUESDAY. Not tomorrow, NEXT DING AND ALSO DANG TUESDAY for I don't even know what test. I talked to Dr. Yow/Yooooo/Yo's nurse who said Dr. Yoo did NOT have my results, so who even knows what to believe. In the meantime I went to my boss's office to tell her I'd be missing work next ridiculous Tuesday morning.
"Cindy," I said, "they –"
And that was as far as I got before I started to cry in front of my boss. The one who doesn't like me as it is. Then I went in my office and sat on the floor for two hours, one of them my lunch hour, one of them not, and sobbed.
I cannot handle this.
I am not strong.
I JUST WENT THROUGH THIS. I JUST DID! I JUST FINISHED NOT HAVING A BRAIN TUMOR.
I cannot believe I have this AND a dentist appointment in the same week. Seriously. Next thing you'll tell me it's the all-jazz-all-cilantro Thanksgiving this year. With mimes.
My father did point out that if it is something, that at least I could get a wig that didn't, you know, frizz up. Which I guess is something. But in the meantime I am not taking it one step at a time. I am not being stoic. I am not keeping my wits about me.
THIS IS HORRIFYING.