Published by pam on Wed, 02/29/2012 - 3:30pm


Time is defined by what happens in it.  I've never doubted that.  And I don't think it's a figurative statement.  I believe that time is a construct of the mind, like sound.


Waiting for the results of the biopsy will take two days.  Two really long days.  And althouth the days may be painful in length, they are also the last two days of my before life.  Once the results come in, everything changes.  It will be after.


Or maybe it won't.  I have played the conversation in my head, over and over again.  It sounds natural to me now.  It sound plausible, likely even.


"This is one of those times I'm glad to be wrong," the doctor tells me.  "You have a rapidly growing, but entirely begin tumor.  It should be removed, but it is not life threatening." I curse the doctor (in my head) for her initial lack of bedside manner.  Well, this isn't good, she told me. Ha.  It's fibroid related, just like I thought. I grow them everywhere.


 I recognize that I am falling into a well worn path of denial-bargaining-anger-acceptance etc., but I don't care.  


I take something to help me sleep, knowing sleep  won't come easily.