Well, two of the three have had a doozy of a weekend!
The first hysteric struggling to sustain a grip would be Scarlett because she closed a show. Closing a show is never easy -- you leave behind people and an internal space you love -- but walking away from the role of Helen Keller?
Many comments were made on how chipper the child seemed. How well all was in her world. John and the Matron simply looked at one another and smiled. They knew what storms slumbered ahead. To take the edge off the letdown, Scarlett had a friend sleep over.
The friend was asleep around 11 pm. Scarlett stayed up most of the night. Crying. Ostensibly because she was 'too tired to sleep' but, after surviving closing nights over the past two and a half years, her parents understand she was mourning.
If you know this child in the real world, this blog post would be talk between grown-ups, only. Thank you.
The Matronly heart might be broken over such despondence but it is not. In part, because mourning is part of the process. There is also the theatrical tendency. The child is a Mixed Bag.
The greater distraction? The hypochondriacal Matron is having an ultrasound on her ovaries on Tuesday, as part of the puzzle that is her constant need to pee. This is on the instruction of the thorough doctor, who thought the Matron a wee bit sensitive near her left ovary and likes to be extra cautious.
Now.
The Matron has spent every waking moment writing her obituary. This will be a tragic text. You'll fall over-- those three doomed children and all (okay, losing a father sucks but the mother is unacceptable). But she has is unable to move beyond every lethal possibility at the phrase: "let's just check those ovaries."
This is her special, hypochondriacal place. She knows she's terminal.
The real beauty of the Matron's current fear of ovarian cancer? She has had the precise pain the urologist located her entire adult life. Yes. She's had ultrasounds and even once, long ago, consulted a surgeon. The wisest doctor once said: "Muscle strain. Could last for years."
Now the urologist is sending her for one more exam for the same strain. And she is full of Undue Imagination. Sigh. Certifiable.
She feels sorry for the two non-hysterics in the house. The rest of the family is busy (Stryker with studying for this).
13 comments:
Oh, sweetie.
Wallow in the hysteria a bit. And then let it go.
But the wallowing? Very therapeutic. And should probably involve wine and chocolate.
I know your terror--having my mom and sister both died very young of cancer--I have every possible test and still worry constantly. I'm sending you good juju for an "it's nothing."
You need to soothe your own mind. If you don't, then who will? You know there is nothing wrong, so tell yourself that. Don't let your imagination get carried away with you.
Sorry for butting in. I usually lurk.
Hysteria is often soothed by wine and/or chocolate, as someone else mentioned. Hmmm. Scarlett is probably too young for that, right? (btw, I concur that walking away from that Helen Keller role deserves a bit of hysterical mourning. She was fabulous)
Speaking as a person who always runs worst case scenarios in her head, Tuesday seems a long way away.
P.S. Good luck to Stryker.
Breathe. Let it out... everything will be fine. Know it.
Hugs and virtual chocolate to you -- hoping the tests show conclusively that it's not the ovaries, after all.
Well Scarlett had to get that ability somewhere. Hope that all of your worst-case scenarios are proved unfounded.
Thinking all the best wishes for you (and Scarlett)
Wishing you well! I had an ultrasound last fall. It's not much fun, so I'll be thinking of you tomorrow.
Scarlet sounds like a sweetheart! Being sensitive is a good thing!
Advice from my doctor to me (a worst case scenario kind of person) to you: "Always look for the most logical, obvious cause for your symptoms."
So far she's always been right and (so far) no worst case scenario has panned out!
All the best.
I, too, am all for the wallowing. Also? The drinking of much wine, the eating of chocolate, and the venting to friends.
Because that's how we survive anything. Hang in there, and please let us know how you're doing.
It's incredibly difficult, I think, to not think the worst. Even when the evidence looks to be otherwise. Why DO we do this to ourselves??
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