I feel like Cybil. Or Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One moment I’m upbeat and positive I can handle anything that life– or cancer– throws at me, and the next moment I’m scared and anxious and worried and frustrated.

Let me remind you, no one has said, “Nicole, you have cancer.” No one. There has been no definitive test. At this point, I sure would like some answers.

Dr. Peggy called to say that my chest x-ray looks great and my blood work looks pretty good. She seemed to think we were all clear in those areas. Apparently, they do those tests to gather more information about what may be happening in my body and to determine if I would be a healthy candidate for surgery if/when I need it.

I have scheduled an MRI for tomorrow morning. The funny thing about hospital-type tests is that even if you know you REALLY need them, the insurance company wants you to cool your jets long enough to go through all the proper channels for pre-authorization.

Well, we aren’t in a “cool your jets” sort of mood these days, so I scheduled the MRI and then called Saul and told him he had exactly 24 hours to make sure the insurance company would pay for the $4000 test. It took him 7 hours and he may have made some enemies, but he got it done. I love that man.

I got to see Jessica today at the clinic! She is the incredibly kind tech who did my mammogram a few days ago. She heard I was in the office and came by the x-ray room to give me a hug and see how I was doing. Then she introduced me to Holly who will be doing my MRI tomorrow.

Something occurred to me after that first mammogram. I wondered if Jessica was so nice to me because we had such a nice conversation or if she was being nice because she knew I had a long journey ahead of me.

I asked her today if she had seen what the doctor had seen on the mammogram. She admitted she did, but that the radiologist is the one who magnifies the picture to really see what we’re dealing with.

I can’t imagine how hard Jessica’s job is… to talk to women all day long and have an intricate role in this delicate experience, and be the first one to know that their lives will soon be taking a drastic turn.

Jessica told me she went home that night and prayed for me.

Also May 18th: My doctor told me to start writing about my experience and my feelings. She said some of her patients hold everything in and then look back a year or so after the ordeal and just kind of lose it and begin having issues with anxiety and depression. She thought journaling might be a good idea. I agree. 😉