The sinister ding of email arriving in the inbox, the menacing ring of the telephone, the desire to run away and not be found. Waiting for lab results twists your guts into knots, pierces you with tenterhooks, makes you think the blackest thoughts.
I was told to contact the doctor mid-week for the results of my bone marrow biopsy and chimerism test. Today's only Monday. Still, the preliminary results could be in. I could dash off an email, but why look for trouble? Ignorance is bliss. If the results are bad, I'm sure the doctor will contact me right away.
Practice does not make perfect when it comes to this waiting game. You want to know and you don't want to know. You look up and there's the sword, sharp and menacing, right above your head. Say you get good results. You are euphoric for several moments until you realize there will be more waiting. There will be constant waiting. You will have your liver plucked out every time, only to have it grow back so it can be snatched again.
That's what this waiting game is all about. It's no game.
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