Currently reading: See previous post 🙂

Currently listening to:  I could use a love song by Maren Morris

I am a candle of shining hope.  As I lie in a cold room, cold yet comfortable, cold yet pleasant.  As pleasant as can be imagined with a first cold now room temperature probe inside my vagina.  The probe gently guided by a lab technician.  As she stares at a computer.

Musical notes as pictures are taken. Ding, ding, ding.

I am made comfortable. I stare at a crooked flower poster on the ceiling.  No tears or scotch tape to hold up this piece, just crooked, but not unpleasant.

I joked happily about this appointment.  Pounding down 4 glasses of water and laughing.  Waddling in with a full bladder and a jovial attitude. Making conversation with nurses and trainees.

Shown my room and my robes. One open to the back, the other opened to the front.  Keys for a locker.  Everything so clean and so quiet.

I lie down and warmth begins.  The warm lotion, the pressure, the quiet with the occasional questions of, “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

My thoughts once occupied dealing with other things like getting my parking validated, suddenly settle here.  Then like savage thorns grow in my once peaceful mind, choking out all concept of rational thought.

“What if this is it? What if she finds something? What does her body language look like? Boy she is taking a lot of pictures! What do all those colors mean?  She just took a sip of water, that’s good, or is it good? Does that mean something?”

And I bear the questions like turbulence on a plane.  What if we suddenly fall?  What if she sighs? What if we nosedive? What if her hands shake?

And the room so quiet.  A potential crashing plane in my mind in this quiet tranquility in the room.

I breathe but all my muscles are tense and ready.