|photo by estherase||via PhotoRee|
A call-back generally indicates someone thinks your talent and skill are worth a paycheck. Writers and actors and job-seekers yearn for “call-backs” after interviews, auditions, and manuscript submissions.
After Monday’s mammogram I got a call-back I didn’t want, in the form of a letter in the mail. “There is no cause for alarm; however…”
Okay, instant alarm. Never, ever, tell a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist there is no cause for alarm, because that automatically sets off every alarm I have. (Funny, all those alarms in the picture look like breasts, don’t they?)
|photo by Leo Reynolds||via PhotoRee|
Long story short: I have an appointment on Monday at the “big” hospital for further tests. Apparently, my boobs aren’t any more photogenic than the rest of me. The girls’ portraits were “unclear,” and one revealed a “nodule.”
As a woman, in today’s age of hyper-awareness of breast cancer, one’s reaction to that news falls somewhere between “oh, crap” and sheer terror. Coupled with the financial pressure of not having health insurance … double crap.
I won’t know anything more in the natural until Monday, but one thing I do know: God is still God. He’s still my Savior, my Redeemer, my Provider, and my Lord. And that will be as true on Monday evening as it is right now.
In the meantime, I’m just going to sing this song and focus on living in the NOW. Hey, isn’t that what I should be doing anyway? All the time?