March 19th, 2018
Emotional Support
The day is clear and bright. A breeze comes in from the west. I sit on my porch and wait. Before this, I sat in my driveway. Before that, I sat in the parking lot of the imaging center.
Today is my scan day.
It’s been on the schedule for three months, since I last got word that I would have another three months of not-cancer.
So I wait today, phone in hand, trying to distract myself from thoughts that may push me over the edge and into a world of bittersweet memories and thoughts of life and death. I played Yahtzee in my car after getting my imaging done and flipped through a Coldwater Creek catalogue. I have no plans to buy anything from Coldwater Creek, I never do, but it distracts me. I pore over the whole thing.
I made no plans for the rest of the day (or the rest of the week), except to pick up my kids. I left emails and texts asking about brunch and playdates unanswered for all but my closest of friends. For everyone else, I will not be making plans until I know whether I get to have my next three months as not-cancer months.
Today is my scan day.
It’s been on the schedule for three months, since I last got word that I would have another three months of not-cancer.
So I wait today, phone in hand, trying to distract myself from thoughts that may push me over the edge and into a world of bittersweet memories and thoughts of life and death. I played Yahtzee in my car after getting my imaging done and flipped through a Coldwater Creek catalogue. I have no plans to buy anything from Coldwater Creek, I never do, but it distracts me. I pore over the whole thing.
I made no plans for the rest of the day (or the rest of the week), except to pick up my kids. I left emails and texts asking about brunch and playdates unanswered for all but my closest of friends. For everyone else, I will not be making plans until I know whether I get to have my next three months as not-cancer months.
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