scare

I found out today that even with all the good news of late, I am still one small sliver of mood away from worry approaching despair. And also that for all the blogging about me deriving strength from Becca, that is fine for the day-to-day maintenance but when an unexpected change comes, I don't listen. I turn my key. I'm toast long before it is rational to be so.

The story goes like this. Friday night Becca was having dull pain in her rib area just below the left breast, mostly when she coughed. She said it was probably indigestion and no need to worry. On Saturday it was a little worse, registering when she reached or stretched in certain ways. I made her promise if it was not better Sunday we would email the oncologist. Ok. So Sunday rolls around and now it is hurting even more. Now it hurts also when she lies down or gets up. We email. We get a response that night to contact the office in the morning "to touch base." Before we go to bed we watch the Grey's Anatomy season finale. (great television but not a smart move on our part)

At about three o'clock in the morning Becca has a 20-minute coughing fit that puts me over the edge. I am convinced something terrible is happening. I don't ever get back to sleep. I drag myself wearily through the morning. Now it hurts when she takes deep breaths too. I barely can eat. We somehow get the kids off on the buses and call the doc.

We tell our onc what has been going on and she tells us(me) not to freak out; due to the clean scans last week she is not worried but she wants a chest x-ray just to rule some improbable complications out. So back to the hospital for the morning.

A couple chest films and an exam later, there is nothing to be found. Clean ribs. Clean lungs. No pneumonia. Which leaves us with an undetectable rib fracture or a pulled muscle. Treatment: Tylenol and Aleve.

I am exhausted.

While I thank my lucky stars Becca was right and it was not a big deal, this is just not a fun train to be on, even when the news turns out good.