Monday, Jan. 08, 2018 @ 8:29 am
My body runs electric with anxiety.
I'm nervous, jumpy, a sparking stripped wire.
I wake up this way, immediately grumpy and frustrated. It feels out of control, a hormonal mix up. Like a drug side effect. Except that I'm taking no drugs.
I meditate, I do yoga. I take deep breaths. I drink green tea, take vitamins. I feel helpless, like I can't out-think this. I meditate so hard, and then 5 minutes later my nerves are flying away from me.
I lay on the exam bed in the darkened ultrasound room. The tech pushes the want into my throat, clicking and typing into her monitor.
"Do you know how large the nodule was last spring?"
"19mm, I think. What are you seeing now?"
I hesitate before responding. "Do you mean 5.2 centimeters? Or millimeters?"
I arrive at my desk in the morning.
Something is happening within me.
I feel the bulge in my throat. My voice has started to change from the pressure on my vocal cords.
I begin to feel faint. I take my pulse - it's 85 when I normally run at a reptilian 48.
I go to the bathroom and sit on the cold toilet seat, head between my legs. Waiting it out.
It's Daniel's birthday. I don't want to be in the ER on his birthday.
I lay in bed at night and can feel the ache from my throat.
I'm scared. A deep primal fear.
Snow falls heavy and wet.
The plow grates loudly on the asphalt in front of the house.