218/365 Verklempt

So the scan was negative and I was mostly glad that I didn't even wait 24 hours from "let's get a scan" to "your scan is normal." Still enlarged and something will have to come of this, but here we are. I was puzzled more than relieved, although I was relieved, and later after "normal" on a sonogram was explained, I had that relief. It wasn't in my head, and it wasn't going to kill me. It was in between.

So I took my kids to the Magic House for their once-a-year trip to that den of chaos. Lost Sophia and Maeve. Had to have them paged. But it was ok. Exhausting but ok. I brought them home with groceries and empty paper cups from Dairy Queen (which had been filled with mini blizzards after the Magic House). Dropped them off and went down to the Red Cross on Lindell to give blood. This had been on the schedule for more than a week. It wasn't because of my scan. But it felt so connected to that as I walked in the building. I managed to pass the iron test and they got a pint out of me. I ate my raisins and drank my water watching them clean up--I was the last appointment of the day.

As I walked out into the heat, I thought about my pint of blood. I can things in pints. I know how much that is. I thought about when my father needed two pints of blood a couple years back after some internal bleeding. I thought about my blood, my A+ blood, hopefully on its way to whatever processing it needs to wind up in an ER or an OR. Someone out there I've never met is going to, for even just a short time, carry a piece of me with them.

And I got all verklempt and had to stop thinking. Pretty much that's the order of the week: Stop Thinking.