Those Three Little Words

I know you’re thinking, “I love you.” And, actually, at that moment, I did love this woman. I would have happily kissed her on the mouth if she had been standing next to me in my house instead of sitting in a doctor’s office way across town.

I had called earlier, hoping that the results were back before I left for a day of shopping with Anna. The receptionist very nicely explained that the results usually took 7-10 business days and somebody would call me when they were available. “But the nurse at the hospital said five days,” I whined. She kindly offered to put me through to the voice mail of Dr. Meanie’s nurse and I thanked her.

I left a message and explained that I would be gone most of the day and was hoping to hear something before I left. Leaving my cell phone number in case the call came while we were on the road, I ended the call and woke up Miss Anna so she could do listen-for-the-phone duty while I got dressed. “Is your phone charged?” she asked. Well, of course, it is no. I plugged it in and headed for the shower.

I forced myself to shower slowly. I took extra time with my hair and skin care regime, and actually put on mascara. As anxious as I was for answers, I also dreaded getting them. It was the same way I felt when I got my State Board exam results after nursing school. I would pick up the envelope and put it back on the table. I would grab it and start to lift the flap and then throw it back down. I knew that what was in that aforementioned envelope could possibly change my life for the worst. What if I had failed? I would lose my job! How would I make my car payment?! That's how I felt today. What if the results were bad? It would most definitelychange my life for the worst. Did I really want to know that right before what was supposed to be a fun day of shopping with my sweet baby girl?

All dressed up with somewhere to go, I went to my bedroom and picked the phone up. The tiny little words on that tiny little screen told me that I had not one, but two missed calls from Robin, the nurse. I checked the voice mail and she had, indeed, left a message. “Please call me back when you get this. Tell the girls up front to have me paged.” Have her paged?! It must be really bad, I thought.

Hands shaking, I dialed the number and waited the 5 hours and 33 minutes it took (at least it seemed that long) for her to come to the phone. Actually, in less than a minute, I heard her cheerful (was that a good sign?!) voice on the other end of the line. She said something about last Thursday and the office being closed Friday and a letter that had been mailed to me and scar tissue and blah, blah, blah. I heard bits and pieces and this and that, but then I heard those three little words: “The polyps were benign!” Ok, maybe two of those words were big words, but hearing them was every bit as sweet as hearing I love you. They were benign!

Happy ending, right? Well, of course it is. But there’s more to this story. Last week, I wrote here about how afraid I was and how I could barely think of anything else. Very soon after I posted that story, I was wrapped up in love and support and held up in prayer by friends I’d never met. Their words of encouragement and concern were balm to my aching spirit. One friend beautifully advised me to ”let that fear go out that all may unburden you a bit. and let that fear remind that we are gifted of every moment.” I did let it out and I was unburdened and reminded. And myy heart was filled with those three little words. I love you, my friends.

For more stories of precious gifts, go see Emily at chatting at the sky.