"I am large. I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Sunday, December 16, 2007


If there's one thing people who are close to me know about me, its that I don't easily open up to people.

It takes a terribly astute person to notice this about me, it seems. Just as it takes a true friend to actually care enough about me to ask.

I have always found it strange but gratifying when people open up to me. Maybe I've fooled them into thinking I've figured a lot of things out. It freaks me out sometimes because it is such an honor when friends confide in me. I must admit that I do have quite a number of friendships that run that way, like a river running down a slope, it runs in one direction. They confide in me but I don't confide in them.

I've had some friends of this sort express their willingness to be my sounding board. I do so appreciate that. And it's not that I don't trust them. It's really just because I'm not in the habit of confiding in them. I am weird that way. When I had a breast lump scare a couple of years ago, I didn't tell a soul, not even my best friend Zippy. The day I got the results from the doc's (negative, thank God!), I played hookie, spent the day alone, finally told Zippy and Piglet about it, watched "Sideways" and then went to see my spiritual adviser. (That watch 'Sideways' is sooo random!)

I wish opening up was easier for me. If it were, I would've told everyone I knew about this blog.

So in an uncharacteristic way, via this post, in an effort to open up, I want to let you know that I've had three checks on my girls yesterday. An examination by my doctor, afterwhich I was led to an ultrasound, followed by a painful mammogram from which I am still scarred. Results not in yet. I am hoping to get word before I head off for my Christmas holidays this Wednesday. I am hoping that it is nothing, that this is routine. Most times I'm not unduly worried. At a dinner last night, I even used it as fodder for jokes, so for me that's a good sign - it means I'm not that bothered by it. I remember stepping out of the examination room close to tears praying that it's nothing, then letting Aslan know that I'm leaving it to Him cause there's no point wracking my brains about it.

Sitting in that waiting room though is a lonely place. I pray you never get to do that alone. I wish you always have someone who loves you waiting with you, wanting to be somewhere else with you too.

(Photo credit: slight clutter)

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