Some Stuff

I've finished another book:

I love Joshilyn Jackson.
I had totally forgotten that I had purchased this book on my Kindle. So it was a pleasant and welcome surprise to find it on there last night.

Now that I've given up a certain something for Lent, I have all this free time to read.
THAT, and I've been avoiding having any spare time to think this week. I've been attempting to keep my mind occupied during every waking hour.

So on Thursday, after work, I went to Jule's to get my hair cut. A Whole Head Cut, is what we call it. Not just my bangs. I arrived at 6 pm, and by the time I got to her back deck, my right ear was soaking wet from the rain being blown in. She was waiting for me at her back door with a warm chocolate chip cookie in her hand.

"Not as good as Fran's..." she apologized. "But at least it's fresh from the oven."

I ate that cookie in two bites then bent over her laundry room sink and washed my hair. She's standing behind me and my bum/size becomes the topic of conversation again. It has not had this much attention since Jr. High.

I comb my hair out, sit on her oak kitchen chair in front of a decorative mirror on her laundry room wall and relax while she snips away.
"You don't need all this hair back here," she decides. And whoosh, just like that my head feels 10 pounds lighter. She pulls up sections all over my head and expertly, with the confidence that comes from 30 years of experience, cuts away for 10 minutes.

I am done.
With soaking wet hair, I give her some cash and head out, back into the rain. Haircuts at her house are over before a conversation can even get started. I'm standing on her porch, saying g'bye when she asks, "Want another cookie?"
Hell yes, I do.

I zip to my mom's house to dry and curl my hair (Jule, my hairdresser, doesn't own a curling iron. Oh the irony) then drive back to Langley to meet a friend for coffee. We hadn't chatted since Christmas, so we had many words to say.

I love that our lives are so different and it doesn't matter. At the heart of it, we're moms. Women. Baby Boomers. Readers. And Christians. Quite enough to build a friendship on.

Hours later, we were the last ones in Starbucks and they turned the lights off on us. We got the hint.

I came home and started reading.
And reading. And reading.

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.
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I'd booked this morning off work because I had an appointment at the hospital to have a procedure (biopsy) done. The appointment was made by my doctor back in December and they notified me when I was in Parksville with Heather. So for 2 months, I have purposefully not been thinking about it. Absolutely, positively, not thinking about it.
Unless I was thinking about it.
What if I have cancer? God knew it was coming. That's why I haven't had any peace about buying my own place. That's why everything I own is boxed up or liquidated. I have an easy estate for my kids to deal with. That's the answer to my 'what if' question... What if I am dying. How then would I live? What would I do differently? How would I spend my time? Who would I spend my last months with?

A person can really only think deeply about one thing at a time.
So I kept my brain busy with other thinking things for the past two months.
Mostly it was easy.
When the 'what if' question popped up, I'd just hand it over to God and let Him know I wasn't going to get bunched up over it. I was going to put my life in His hands, and just read this romantic novel. Or go see a that movie. Or watch a new video. Or go for a walk and listen to music. Or zone out and think about vacations. Or go have coffee with a friend. Or drive into New West to see Max. Or visit Clint. Or take Drew and Danica out. Or learn how to use an app for Instagram. Or whatever.

So this morning was the appointment.
I was there half an hour early. And the specialist was running one hour late.

There were 5 of us waiting in a closet-sized waiting room.
Conversation was intimate. As it usually is when 5 women are all sitting in tight quarters anticipating the same procedure.
"This is weird, right?" the youngest one said. "We're all naked."
I looked up from my Kindle and looked at her quizzically.
"Well, under our robes and gowns, we've got no clothes on!"

Technically, we're all naked, every single day, under our clothes. But I guess this was weird. We all knew we were all commando.


We all had identical outfits.
Blue gown. Open to the back.
Blue robe. Open to the front.
Blue booties over our socks.
I was the only one with mismatched socks though.
And while I was the oldest. And the fattest. I also had the darkest shins.
Not that it's a competition or anything.

I was not cool or calm when it was my turn, despite my best intentions.
After I was in position, they encouraged me to watch on the big screen.
Which.
Uh.
No thanks.
.
.
.


And then I did.
Because how often do you get a chance to see the inside of your body?
(It's mostly pink.) (And moist.)


I was actually doing fine, chatting about my recent vacation (they wondered about my tan) with the nurse, while listening to the specialist say, "this looks good. Very good. Uh huh. Yes..." and then the doctor said, "OK. Take a deep slow breath. This is going to pinch. And there will be some cramping. And you'll feel some pressure. I'm just going to take some tissue."

I held my breath.
"No, take a deep slow breath."
I kept holding my breath.
"Deep breathhhhh."
I did a tiny exhale.
"Jane. Take a deep. slow, breath."
I was dizzy from holding my breath. She was going to take tissue and it was going to hurt. ALOT. I was going to be In Pain.
The nurse stepped in close and started to rub the inside of my leg, near my knee.
"Relax."
I took a huge gulp of air.
"How about trying that again?"
And while they're managing my breathing, that sneaky doctor applies pressure, pinches off a piece of tissue from my body and declares she's done.
THAT WAS IT?
Pffft. 15 seconds of discomfort?

I am a moron.

Test results will be forwarded to my doctor in 3 weeks.
I will doing alot of book reading and coffee drinking (figuratively speaking) between now and then.

Mostly, I'm not worried. Really.
Like, 95% not worried.
Which is an "A" in the subject on NonWorriedness.

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.
.
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After all that trauma, I went to work for the afternoon.
We, the staff and Board of Directors, gathered in our staff room, where pop and popcorn were served as we watched a pre-screening of Irreplaceable.

You can see it too. One night only. Check your theatre listings for MAY 7.

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. Books.

2. An unexpected long visit with Drew tonight.

3. A dry evening, so I managed to go for a walk between chapters.

It's the simple things, no?

:)

Shalom,

xo