I’m a wreck. I’ve been a wreck all day, walking around work in a semi-catatonic state of freak-out. I just left the lab for blood draw #2. I have a really horrible feeling about this. Like this is NOT going to work out. I keep flashing back to when Mama was undergoing chemo… waiting, waiting, waiting for the results & willing them with all your might to be positive. Yet no matter what actions are taken or how much I want it, I can’t MAKE the tumor markers to go down, or the scans to show disease reduction, or my hcg to go up. I have no control. It makes me crazy.
All day I’ve been taking inventory of my symptoms, or lack thereof. No puking or nausea. No headache (which isn’t necessarily pregnancy related, but I’ve had a splitting one for two days, & now it’s *poof* magically gone). Boobs are noticeably less sore. I’ve been peeing noticeably less. I feel fine = Z4’s a goner.
And this morning, a parent came in all gushy-bubbly about how “We’re gonna have a baby!” and “We’re due in September!” I wanted to scream “ME TOO!! And let me be a warning of why you shouldn’t be effing TELLING people yet, dumbass!!” But I didn’t because that would have probably been a little uncomfortable for everyone. And making people comfortable is what it’s all about, right?
Ok, so I’m going back to work now. And I will act normal. And in a little while, I’ll sneak off to the bathroom to call for lab results. And then I’ll text Bobby the verdict. And then I’ll walk out of the bathroom & work 2.5 more hrs after getting the results. And I will not cry, damn it. Will. Not.