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12:39 p.m. - 2010-08-04
Good news from the lab.

Whew. All the snips and clips came back benign. I hadn't said much here, mentioned it a bit more on FB, but since there wasn't anything to know until all the tests came back I figured I'd spare everybody the hysteria. Because there was a lot of it. Hysteria was THE word. Superstitious dread rode right over odds, statistics, and common sense and turned me into a quivering ball of shrieking idiocy. Why? Because I am happy. And happy is not allowed. Not for me.

I learned early and well that any sign of happy on my part meant I was going to be smacked down. No accomplishment was allowed to stand unsullied. No friendship was mine to keep. No smile that wasn't slapped off my face. Any outward appearance of contentment or peace with myself brought an immediate tsunami of jibes, criticisms, trapdoors opening beneath my feet, punishments both verbal and physical, and I learned. Everything good will be taken away. Safety is an illusion. Happiness was a target on my forehead.

I will never believe I am entitled to stay well, safe and happy. Never. I have learned to be happy. A small miracle in its own right. But I'm also pretty sure I'll be punished for it. Enduring happiness is not part of my life's option menu. So when the sonographer went, "Uh oh" and started jabbing and poking deeper. When the biopsies were scheduled and the calm progression of follow-up appointments went from, "How's Sept 5th?" to "How soon can you come in?" I just knew. I knew I was about to pay for daring to be happy.

Silly? Paranoid? Yeah. So? Look, we all bump along trying to do our best with the messy piles of experiences, inborn traits, outside influences, lucky streaks and bad breaks that shape who we are. The lemon truck backed up and dumped its load on me before I was out of nursery school and made enough return visits that I've become the reigning champeen of lemons, and while I've learned to make lemonade it doesn't mean I'm ever going to flit along blithely, I'll always have one ear cocked for the rumble of the lemon truck's return.

This time it just took a nasty swerve at me before it roared past. I'm grateful. There's stuff that needs fixing, but I was spared the C word. My fear might have been out of proportion, but I handled it best I could and did okay, I think. I went off my chump quietly.


Relieved, ~LA

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