Wednesday, November 26, 2014
But first, a little of the back-story: two weeks ago I went in to the doctor for my first ever exam-for-women-who-are-over-40. You who are over 40 know what I'm talking about! That lovely machine that tries to squish parts of you into pancakes. The lady running the machine - mammographer I believe is her title - was super nice and relaxed, and just made it comfortable as possible. I left thinking, phew, done for a year.
My week was cruising along nicely; I had vague plans as to what we would eat for Thanksgiving, along with thoughts about my son's upcoming birthday, crowding around the daily feed-them, get-them-where-they-need-to-be routine that fills my life. A week after I had my exam, the clinic called and asked to schedule another exam. My thoughts came to a screeching halt for just a sec until they started galloping all over the "what if" scale.
I'm thankful my husband was working from our home office that day.
And in a way, I am thankful for that.
And I'm so thankful for that.