Choices are Good

Choices are good, except when they are not... like having to choose between a rock and a hard place.

As I sit down to write this, I realize that I always have a choice but sometimes the unknown of a choice paralyzes me. This afternoon, was one of those paralyzing moments. I saw that I had just missed a called and checked my voicemail.

As I unlocked my door and tossed my bag onto the passenger seat, I listened to the message. My Neurologists' nurse had called to tell me that the Doctor wanted to speak to me about my blood work. Then she explained that his office closes at 5pm and he wouldn't be back in the office until 1:30 tomorrow (Thursday). That's all she said.

It was 5:05pm.

I froze.

She left me hanging.

My mind raced and I used my inhaler. I hate using my inhaler. Could there really be something wrong with me besides the fact that I was hit by a car which was the reason for the Neurologist visit in the first place?


Was he simply reporting that my blood work came back normal and wanted to clarify some things before writing his report for all the lawyers in my life who are determining my post accident fate.

The latter seems slightly more reasonable except that I have never had a doctor call me about normal test results. In fact, I usually get a cryptic letter in the mail a few months later... so much later that I can't remember taking the test at all.

Also, this simple blood test turned out to be more of an ordeal than I had anticipated. He had me come back and redo the test a second time last week. I did the math. This simple blood work was exactly 9 hours of my life, a half tank of gas, $14 in parking fees, 8 tubes of blood, and two bruised forearms. (But who's counting?)

I've decided I have a choice. I can choose whether or not I spend anymore time fretting over something that is completely out of my control. I'm choosing not to worry.

We will see how well that works as I lay in bed and try to sleep.