For someone who writes poetry almost all of the time, I am certainly using this blog more as a stream-of-consciousness writing than anything else.

So we are wrapping up the amazing week of Valentine’s Day…  I can’t say that particular holiday has ever been of major interest to me.  I love getting silly cards from (and for) my children, and the chocolate is never a bad idea, but other than that it mostly seems like a day.

This year, for Valentine’s Day, I had two biopsies.  I must be the last of the red hot lovers, since I don’t know who on earth schedules stuff like that on our annual day of “romance.”

I am amused by how many people keep telling me everything is fine, and the biopsies were just a precaution.  I love and appreciate the fact that those around me are shaping their words into the most reassuring phrases possible.  The funny thing is: none of us know that.  Everything may be perfectly fine, or it may not.

I would be a liar if I said I am not at all worried about it.  But the truth is, I was so squeamish about the idea of a core biopsy and a needle biopsy (ick!), that I got a lot of my nerves out of the way before Valentine’s Day.  Note I was not squeamish about WHAT they tested for — but the test procedure.  Really, I am extremely capable of handling just about anything, but that made me nauseous.  Haha.

Now we wait for results.  The hour before biopsies was a horrible wait, but this waiting feels like a bit of a reprieve.  The 23rd is the day I find out for sure, and I can smile to myself that at least it isn’t Valentine’s Day this time!