See my last posting. I know nothing. Knowing nothing will be the status quo for a couple more days possibly.
I have nothing more to really say about it. I know nothing. Que sera sera.
I had an ultrasound. Anything there? I don’t know. When my technician found the ovaries, her demeanour changed. The conversation about my mother’s disease/death unravelled me a little at the start.
She had made somewhat-small talk with other orderlies around the waiting area and struck me as the nosey obsessive type who likes details, before I even knew she’d be my ultrasound-reading-chick. Thus, I’m trying not to read much into her work methods.
But it is what it is. I knew an air of intrigue would accompany things. I know I’m statistically probably fine. Good. Great. Then let’s get there and affirm that, shall we?
And yet, no.
So, I wait. So far that has meant eating rather bad food and watching lots of movies. We do what we gotta do so we can do what we wanna do.
But the ultrasound itself? Dead on-time. I was out of the hospital 20 minutes from my appointment time, even went in early. No big deal. That’s the easy part.
The hard part’s what takes place underneath my skull. And inside my chest? Whew.
That’s a real fuckin’ humdinger.
Either way, I come out of this with some changed perceptions. Welcome to Life By-Bump-In-The-Night 101. Buckle up.