Say What?
The doctor’s face was serious as she cut each stitch.
I joked with her. She was quiet.
Then she said, “There! That part’s done.” I caught on—that part?
She frowned, “I wondered why the pathology report took so long.”
I asked, “What are you talking about?”
She said, “The report said the cyst was undifferentiated pleomorphic sarcoma.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s cancer, Bill. We made an appointment with oncology. There’s nothing more we can do. Good luck. I’m so sorry.”
I thought she would cry. I asked, “Can you please say what it is again.”
She repeated the diagnosis.
I said, “I am bombarded yet I stand.”
She looked at me, puzzled.
I said, “It’s from a poem. I often wondered how you folks handled this.”
“They will give you all that information on the way out. Good luck.”
Look both ways because life if full of surprises.
Mind the gaps.
Thank medical science and live every day with gratitude.
