And soon, another tomorrow...

It's taken me over a week to write this post. Every time I sit and write, my thoughts jumble and I can't eloquently express what has been occupying my mind. So now I'm just going to spew some words onto this keyboard and we'll see what happens.

Remember the "Tomorrow" post? And "Today"? Well now there's this one.

On Thursday, my mom goes in for tests. Of course, this is all assuming that insurance doesn't decide to pull it's temper-tantrum power trip and prevent her from going. [Of course, today when they called to tell her there might be some sort of problem, she was at chemo. And do insurance people work late hours? Nah. Why would they? Libraries need to be open late for the people, because you know, it's free. Insurance, which is pretty much like anal rape and extortion for top dollar, doesn't need to go that extra mile.]

Anyway... there are these 2 tests that come out of this one procedure. If all goes the way it should, results should be in on Tuesday, just in time for next week's chemo.

Here we are again. At that spot in time, where there is nothing to really do but wait. Did it go away? Did it shrink? Did it spread? Is the making-you-sick-so-you-can-get-better chemo working?

Lots of people tell me not to worry, that it will be fine. And honestly, what should I expect anyone to say? Sometimes I want to ask how they will know. Sometimes I agree. Sometimes it's all I can do to ask them not to tell me something they can't guarantee. I guess it depends on the mood.

Once we got over the initial impact earlier this year, the process of "Okay, now what do we have to do to get this taken care of" kicked back in. Business as usual. But a couple weeks ago, the game changed. A comment was made implying the question of "tomorrow" or the possibility of a negative outcome to all of this. While I didn't hear the comment first-hand, it was enough to make me sort of sick. Enough to rattle that thought of "Let's get this done" and to introduce "Oh... How much time?"

I suppose part of it is a crisis of faith. Or what some people tell me is pessimism, although I'm more convinced it's realism. Now I'm not saying that I'm expecting the worst. But I'm not stupid, nor do I consider myself naive in this. I know that for every happy ending, there is a sad one. For all the smiles, there are opposite tears. Our hopes and fears and wants... This selfish notion that things need to be "fair" or at the very least acceptable. Sometimes we can only do so much. Be it God or fate or mystical monkeys, I don't really care at this moment.

Apparently, in order to process this moment, I've decided to step away from it. Like I said, I'm not expecting the worst, and while I hope for the best I won't allow myself to walk blindly into that territory. I've thought about this a lot. I won't go so far as to say I have meditated on it, because I've been awful at sticking to that. But I have tried to keep an open mind--tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever is tossed at me.

***
Well, that wasn't too terribly awful, huh? Now my task: Put it aside. Because here we are with nothing to do but wait. There is nothing to be done but that which is already being done. Think I can manage that one?