I'm not a scarves wearer, but I find this bleak fresh Thursday morning wrapping one around my neck seems right.
Am I making a statement?
Because is cold and looks fashionable?
To hide what only the Doctor and I know is there?
To cover the marks they leave behind in my make up perhaps?................
I don't know
But I somehow feel better with in on, like a shield of amour, giving me warmth and bravery as I go alone to yet again another appointment.
Faceless, voiceless practitioners, there smiles a facade,
I stare at the roof, following hollow instructions.
I catch a glimpse at the screen and see why I’m there, it doesn’t look that bad, measurement look huge compared to what it feels like under my finger tips, I see flashes of red and blue, is that blood and oxygen?
Why can’t they explain it to you? Why won’t she talk, she knows I bloody can’t she’s scanning my neck!
3 hrs and I get my results, god bless Sydney for it's efficiency.
3 hrs to find out my fate,
But we know that’s a lie, because I need another Doctor to decipher the images and the written report, even though my 8yrs of experience might help me understand, I think it's best in the hands of professionals today.
But what if they got it wrong? What if she didn’t take the right images? What if she didn’t take enough? What if she didn’t measure right? What if she was in the wrong spot? What if I showed her the wrong spot? What if there’s more? What if it's something else?
So many what if’s........