This is SERIOUSLY.KILLING.ME.
I know that I have PTSD. I know it from the symptoms. I know it from friends. I know it from colleagues who are mental health professionals. I know it from my family practice doctor. Knowing it and coping with it are two worlds apart.
Logical me knows that blips pop up all the time on mammograms and lots of women get called back to find out about a cyst. Or that they inadvertently worn deodorant and that messed up the film making it look like a big black shadow. Or any other number of benign issues.
I KNOW that.
BUT, when I looked at my letter, my first thought was "I am going to die." I haven't been able to shake it either. I did not schedule my over-due hair appointment when I saw my lady last week because what is the point? I look at my daughter and at times I simply cannot breathe.
I don't get good medical news. Just doesn't happen for me. Maybe tomorrow can be a first. Who knows? In the meantime, I am going to count on some pharmaceutical help.