A picture out there ...

Our minds are brilliant, perhaps the greatest thing about being human, and at times the worst.I stopped by my mom's house for a quick bite before heading off to be scanned and my brother was there. As we sat on the couch together watching the next pussy-cat doll : ), and made fun of them (I take whatever bonding I can get!), I felt anxiety begin to well up inside of me. Well not so much anxiety but more of a resistance. As the time ticked closer to leaving the feeling increased. Masking the true source I began to grumble and whine about being cozy and not wanting to drive all the way to Foothills. I am still wrapping my mind around it but there does seem to be some sort of annual or life-time threshold of how much hospital time one can handle. And for me lately every visit sets of a warning alarm that I am close to capacity and may soon melt-down. It was interesting as this even seems to have translated into therapies that I had always enjoyed. I took about 6 months off of massage therapy. Even though I have always loved it and found relief in it ... I just did not want to be touched therapeutically. I even noticed that I had become less affectionate and comfortable with others affection. I started back to massage therapy in the New Year and I have almost had to put myself through exposure therapy. Reteaching myself that this touch is healing and that my body loves it. My brother said "It is only an MRI, a little pounding and you are out of there." And in a sense he was right. But to me it was driving that same route, parking a mile away and having to walk through the entire hospital, sitting in that waiting room, adorning patient clothes, and laying in an isolated room in a machine that has brought me such joy and such sorrow. And although I will not know the results until next week, they are out there. The technicians know, the radiologist knows ... they have seen it ... they know the answer to the question that sits at the back of my head. I tried to read their faces but they were cold, overstressed, seen-it-all health care workers ... giving away nothing. And so now I wait. Knowing that the picture that will tell it all is out there. Stored in a computer, printed and sitting in an in-box ... waiting to become part of my journey, waiting to once again define and outline the next step. With the power to bring joy or sorrow.