December 9, 2010
“This is not normal. I’ll need to do a biopsy.”
A fear washes over me. Is it more cancer?
The doctor makes no promises.
I make my next appointment and leave the doctor’s office numb. The biopsy is Monday. The weekend looms before me.
On Friday the numbness gradually turns to fury. I try to contain it, but it slips out occasionally. I look for a distraction, but everyone is busy. I take a sleeping pill and go to bed early. I just want the days to pass quickly. I need to know.
On Saturday I work. Depression sets in. I don’t call anyone. I don’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. I stare at Netflix all night, then go to bed.
Today is Sunday. The rage returns. I want to throw something, hit something, break something, whip my body around in a frenzy until I drop exhausted. I want to roar my pain.
Instead I stare mutely, looking for distraction.
Tomorrow is the biopsy.
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