My crazy. Let me show you it.

I've lost my whole perspective on this "health event". The doctor's appointment yesterday...well, first there was the 45 minute wait. When I got there I asked the girl sitting at the counter if I could pay my balance and she said "we'll take care of that when we check you in." Thirty minutes - and no "check in" - later, I asked again if I could pay while I was waiting. I paid. Then there was more waiting.

Once the doctor finally sat down with us (my mother was there to be an extra set of ears), I was so flustered and frustrated that I could barely form sentences. That wasn't mitigated when she told me that either I wasn't on the calendar yet or that the office manager would have to call me with the information. She asked if there was a date that was better for me and I said a Thursday or Friday would give me the weekend. We generally do them on Thursdays; usually later in the day. Oh - okay, I can get in half a day of work. Less leave to use. My mother says something about fasting before the procedure. Really? Oh yes - no food or drinks for the eight hours before the procedure. Hey! There's a new piece of information! Perhaps that half day of work is a bad idea.

So - next week works for me. Oh, well it won't be that soon - you have to go through some other procedures first. Oh yeah? Like what? Well, an H&P and blood tests, but she'll give you all that information when she calls... I cut her off. What's an H&P? It's a "history & physical", but she'll - but won't I have to make an appointment with my GP for that? Why can't I be getting that done now while I'm waiting an unfathomable amount of time for this office manager to make a phone call about scheduling my procedure? It's only been a WEEK since you called me with the results of the blood tests that were done a MONTH ago. What else do I have to do? Blood tests, but we'll give you all that... Again, my brain is screaming, what's wrong with telling me now??!!

Then we're back to "are there any days that are bad for you?" My mother pipes up - yes, she's an attendant in a wedding in Florida on May 18th. Oh, it'll be done way before that. It'll be done this month. I hate to break it to ya, lady, but there's only one Thursday in April after the 17th.

At this point all the questions I have written down are a lost cause. I skip through them half-heartedly and find out that she's not planning on removing the cyst but might drain it. They will extract something that they'll run tests on. I ask how long it will be before I know whether they found anything to be concerned about. Well, the tests take about a week... But when will you tell me if you saw anything? Well, anything I tell you after the procedure you won't remember because of the anesthesia... My mother pipes up "I'll be there" before I can spit out "no shit, Sherlock." Yes, you can tell my mother what you saw. Oh.My.God.

Somehow the question comes up of what she'll do if she finds something. She can either open me up then or wake me up, tell me about it, and schedule another procedure. Fuck. This is where I start to freak out. I envision my mother making medical decisions on my behalf and my life being at risk. Fuck. I am not in the ideal frame of mind to make this decision. I stammer something about going ahead and doing it while she's there, picturing myself sobbing over my cat as I say good-bye to him on my way out the door.

This whole thing is pushing my crazy buttons and my addict buttons. I know it's not all about me and I know that while I am panicking inside, it's just another day at the office for the doctor and her staff. I know that no amount of crazy now is going to have any effect on what happens during the procedure. I know there are factors involved that I'm not privy to and I know that the doctor stuff is her job, not mine.

I know I am powerless to make any of this happen any faster and I need to just let go of trying to be in control.

I know that disengaging from life until this is all over is not going to help anything, no matter how much I want to crawl under the covers and stay there. And I certainly can't take a mental health day from work because I have to save my leave (the leave I don't use getting the H&P and the blood tests).

I know all of that - in my head. If someone could get my gut's attention and fill it in, I'd appreciate it.