Waited all day by the phone. Again. No call from the doctor. I knew that there wouldn’t be. I really did. My doctor had clearly said that she would call Tuesday. But there was still a small part of me that was hoping and wishing that someone would call.
To at least give me an appointment time with Dr. W. So I can start planning that.
Or maybe to tell me that Dr. W is not the right guy. That he feels that I need to see someone else. Someone maybe less cancer-y.
I cannot go much longer without knowing what is wrong. Every ounce of my being aches to get answers. I just need to know.
DP needs to know. He is very stressed. He has gone from “you are fine, it will all be fine” to “I’m not fully willing to accept it, but why else would they be sending you to Dr. W?”. He is not sure what we are going to do.
I’m still praying that Dr. W will say “I’m not the right doctor for you.”
Even if it is “just” a bone infection, there are LOTS of things I have to do. So much of any illness is out of my control. But so much is. I need childcare. I need meals planned. I need a cleaning lady. (thinking a cleaning lady may be a good thing anyway)