I had my biopsy Friday. It was strange to be back with the same radiologist from two years ago... getting another stupid biopsy.
On May 24, 2016, I remember having a stress headache and asking Dr. G's assistant to turn off the radio. I remember Dr. G being chatty and upbeat and reassuring, before he did the biopsy. But nothing could ease my worry. I remember feeling stunned at the bad news, when he called, 4 days later. I remember pacing and agonizing over telling the kids and how relieved I was, once we spoke on the phone. Calling the kids had been the hardest part of the whole cancer thing.
So I'm once again waiting for results. My husband of course knows, but there's no reason to share with anyone else. I want to be a hermit and stay busy at home, but there are 3 days ahead with a graduation party, a dinner with friends, my book club and volunteer work.
I dread my social engagements, but I do a good job and stay pretty chipper. It doesn't feel fake. I know it does me good. But when I'm at home, it's clear that I have depleted my "good mood minutes". I'm grumpy and Poor Old Don has to put up with me. We try to talk summer plans, but I'm unenthused. Why plan, when I might be "doing cancer" this summer? When I head out to meet my book club, I'll have to have my phone handy and what if I get The Call???
I hate waiting, but it's still easier than 2 years ago. If my news is bad, I'll be mad. But I won't be as scared.