tough skin

last week, i had an endometrial biopsy done in the office.  standard procedure, i was told.  results wouldn't be back for a few days.

as someone who's been poked and prodded and biopsied for years now, i didn't dwell too much on it.  admittedly, there was a niggle, yeah.  but there's always a niggle of worry in the back of my mind.  standard procedure, sure, but i've never really been "normal" when it comes to these tests.

after a few days of nothing, in which i've established "no news is good news," that's when i received the call.

"it's not cancer," my nurse stated, and repeated it again probably to make sure that that had registered.

not cancer, i thought, cool as can be.  but it was something.

i wasn't in shock or anything.  this wasn't my first rodeo.  outwardly i reacted with a surreal sense of calm and déjà vu.  after all, i'd been here before.  three times before, to be exact.

perhaps this is the type of reaction that someone has when they're accustomed to hearing bad news.  the kind of someone whose skin has grown so tough it's nearly impenetrable.

and so, i did what any logical girl does.  focused on getting the time off.  on the flurry of scheduling to get me in as soon as possible.  another pre-op, another surgery, another thing among several things of "been there, done that" which has really just managed to test my patience.  and my faith, yet again.

afterwards, i took a breath.  and realized i was shaking.  packed up my things, got in my car... and burst into tears.

still not quite invincible, i suppose.  dang it.