I have a suspicious looking mole… That’s all we need. Husband photographs it (it’s on my back so I can’t see it) and I can see what he means. Cue appointment with GP. GP is lovely, says he’ll refer me to a dermatologist but ‘we’re not overly blessed with them in these parts so it could be 2-3 months or so’. I am to tell him if it changes and ask husband to photograph. ‘If it had changed in last 6 months I’d be more concerned’. I go home to report to Husband. He glowers. ‘Of course it’s changed. That’s why I told you to go and see the doc.’ Bummer. I apologise, promise to call the surgery to leave a message for the doc and make a very strong coffee to make peace.
I call the surgery and leave what I hope is a clear message. Even I can see that it’s important to get this checked asap but I don’t want to over dramatise. Surely I can’t have 2 possible types of cancer at the same time?? I feel fine! Of course husband also felt fine. Until we knew he wasn’t.
I am getting stupidly wound up about minor things in respect of the business. There’s perfectionism and then there’s psychosis and then there’s me…
I manage to apologise to husband, who is very gracious about it. I have a tendency to assume that if I’m not organising the world it will fall apart. I know it’s not true, that God doesn’t need my help and that it’s pride to put myself at the centre of everything anyway but I still end up feeling responsible for everything and panicking that if I don’t get everything right it will all fall apart.
Ho hum… I feel almost submerged at the moment by so many ‘to-do’ lists. I think I’m digging a trap for myself – I want to help people, including people who work for us – their jobs are much easier (and they can do them better) if I help / prepare things for them. The problem is that I end up carrying not only my own load but key parts of other people’s too and then I get exhausted and stress about little things.
I need to get a grip.
The phone rings. Number withheld. A marketing call no doubt. I prepare a polite means of dismissing the intrusive sales person. But it’s not a sales call. Or telemarketing. It’s Mr Surgeon’s secretary. He would like to bring my appointment forward a couple of weeks. ‘Is that ok?’ I’m hardly going to say no. We’ll be meeting him in ‘the counselling room’ on the first floor. Next to Oncology. Or maybe it’s just a room they know will be available for a meeting at short notice.
Secretary is so very nice, giving us directions and promising to post a letter confirming everything. The only thing she can’t confirm is what we really want to know. She does say that the CT results haven’t yet come in, nor histology but I know she can’t say more.
And so we wait. Another week. We did so much waiting for husband’s diagnosis. And now for mine.
Husband continues to work to keep the business running smoothly. We should be working the day of the appointment but he’s adamant that he’ll be coming to see Mr Surgeon with me. Part of me wants to say not to worry, to work and I’ll tell him what doc says. But I know he needs to come and frankly it will be good to have him there. He’s great at calmly asking questions as the world seems to slip from underneath our feet. He can also drive when upset, whereas I would need a time out first.
Bizarrely I feel calmer now that I have a new appointment. They are clearly a bit concerned about something and that gives me a sense of direction if nothing else. It’s odd but having appointments gives me a sense of coherent order, structure – it’s oddly reassuring even if it should perhaps be the reverse.