Finally, the doctor posted the brief reading of my CT scan on the patient portal. I can tell it was a rush job and I have little confidence in it. I’m choosing to believe that the statement, no recurrence of cancer is evident, is true.
There—I’m still a bit mad, but I’m done with the worry. While I think that anxiety will never leave completely, I refuse to let it rule my life on this particular topic. My doctor has told me to stop living in 6-month increments, and that I shall.
My husband is out of town and I’m in a big ass house with nobody but the cats and dog to keep me company.
We have a Jack-and-Jill bathroom between two of the empty bedrooms and have been taking showers in there until our shower is finished. It’s the spooky bathroom. Our youngest son believes it’s haunted because odd things have happened in there. Pop bottles swirling around, the feeling that someone shoved him, and who knows what else.
I have to say I semi-witnessed one occurrence. He was taking a shower while we were out and he had his music jacked up so that he could hear it. As we unloaded the car I was about to tell him to turn it down a bit when all of a sudden it got quieter. I was happy because it saved me a trip up the stairs.
Later he asked if I turned down his music. No, I had not….creepy. Now I’m in the house alone, taking a shower in that bathroom wondering if a spirit from the Civil War is watching me shower.
As for our guard dog mastiff, she lies outside our bedroom door at night, but I’m positive any intruder could walk right over her. Unfortunately, she is becoming a very old lady. While she may look scary, she doesn’t have much umph these days.
So I go to sleep hoping that a spirit from the Civil War is guarding my door.