Waiting, that sweet anticipation. I find myself staring at my phone, willing it to ring, wondering if I should pick it up to check for a dial tone. Yes, I realize how silly this is. It is a cell phone and I am not a teenager and I have voicemail.
My test results are in and the consult is scheduled for next Thursday - a whole week and a day away, gah! But there is hope that one of the Friday appointments will cancel and I will be in the office, notebook in hand so I can have something to reference once I leave the office as I know I will miss, forget or be unable to process some vital (to me) piece of information. I should know tomorrow morning if I am lucky enough to snag the early appointment.
I've never looked forward to a Dr.'s appointment before, so it is a bit strange to feel this way. Then again I've never been in this position before, where my symptoms aren't viewed as imaginary, impossible, perplexing, or perhaps temporary. There is peace in validation and sitting with the pain, knowing I'm not completely mad. I am excited for treatment to start, now matter how much work it involves (I should post that as an affirmation on my bathroom mirror for reference).
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