The next morning at 9 a.m., my doctor called. Something in the left breast. Could be dense tissue or a cyst. No need to worry yet, she said, way too early. But they'll call you back for another mammogram, maybe an ultrasound.
"Wow, that really made my day," I said. She knew I was joking. I was joking.
Immediately, the melodramatic brain kicks into high gear. I love my life! Yes, there's pain in my left breast! No, can't be. Forget it. When will they call? Let's get this over with. I'm too young to die.
To cut a long story short - when I hadn't heard by the next day, I called them. I have an appointment in mid-August. That's the soonest they can see me - weeks away. So then I really spiralled into freaking out-dom. And then, luckily, I went to get my hair cut. Donny, my hairdresser Ingrid's partner, is an eccentric very interesting man and computer geek. Of course, I told them all about it; Ingrid and I have known each other for decades, I spoke at her first husband Harvey's funeral. Harvey, an extremely sweet and handsome man who cut my hair for years, used to have a cigarette after every haircut. He died of lung cancer at the age of 48, leaving Ingrid and 2 young children. But I digress.
Donny looked at me and said, "I'm psychic about these things. There's nothing wrong with you. You'll be fine."
And right then, I decided not to worry any more. I don't know if Donny is psychic. I do know that it's useless to worry about something you can do nothing about. So I'm not going to worry one tiny speck, any more, until I really have to.
Which is great, because I have a very busy time until my appointment - friend Penny has just arrived from England, and it would have been too bad to have overshadowed her whole visit with my moping. She is a keen traveller who has never been to Canada before and is interested in everything. We started off early the day after her arrival, with a 10 a.m. ticket to see the Abstract Expressionist exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Of course, the Gallery itself is one of the main attractions, and Penny ended up spending the whole day there, but the special exhibition was terrific, especially an entire room of sublime Mark Rothko's, those giant rectangles suspended in space. Then I made a special visit to my favourite, David Milne. It's ironic that in Paris, London and Madrid I'm an art hound, and at home, with this wonderful gallery under my nose, I hardly ever go.
Today Penny and I went to the market and did errands and tonight we're going to see the Harry Potter movie - exciting! The garden is gorgeous, my birthday is coming up and life could not be better. Long may that be so.
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