Years ago, I was in a body cast. I was told it would come off on a specific day. The night before, I couldn't sleep. Not a wink. Seemed like an hour or two had passed, but it was 10 minutes, 15. Sometimes not that much. Unfortunately, I was told it would stay for another 2 months. BUT...I had to have it off, anyway.
The next week of waiting has begun. Week 5. All of Trisha's tests were done, complete, with results, in 30 days. And that is from Order to results. What we have now, including order is close to 7, If I have it right. The waiting is just brutal. And there is nothing, positively nothing, we can do to speed it up any.
So we wait. We wait, as patiently as we can. Trish has been in the hospital. I've been checking results not just daily, but often every few hours...or even faster. And since tomorrow is Labor day, most offices and many businesses will be closed. It just adds more waiting time.
The journey is long, arduous, frustrating, nerve-wracking, and sometimes makes me want to scream.
Yet all the yelling and screaming and cussing in the world will not remove one second from the wait. And it wastes our energy.
Maybe this week. Maybe. Maybe next week. Again, maybe. HOPEFULLY, this month.
Until then, I pace like a father-to-be, wondering when it's going to be all over.
The end is in sight. But traveling 1 foot per day on such a voyage leads to bashing our heads against the wall.