Just when I had myself convinced that this was the case, and had started to relax, I found it just isn't true. Not in this case anyways.
I just got a call from my doctor. It wasn't good news, it was exactly what I was afraid of. But that's okay. I can handle it. I will handle it.
My first reaction was to cry. Next, I called my mom. Yes, I admit it, I'm a wimp. When trouble calls, I call my mom.
My second reaction was to get proactive. Get more information. Set up a 'battle plan', if you will. Get more information. (Yes, I know I'm repeating myself here, but I'm a firm believer in 'knowledge is power'.)
Deep inside, I still want to cry. I want to run away, pretend this isn't happening to me. But I also know that that wouldn't help anything, wouldn't change anything.
My greatest wish right now is that I lived closer to my family. I don't and that isn't likely to change any time soon. So I find myself here instead.