Paranoia, paranoia. Everybody’s coming to get me.
I apologise for not writing much. A lot of things had been going on in my mind lately. I simply do not have the mood to write.
The trip to the doctor was not too bad, I guess, albeit having to wait about forty-five minutes for a medical consultation. There was this little family who came after me; yet, they got to see the doctor before me. That was when my mother jumped up and asked the nurse about it. The nurse must have pretty bad eyesight, for she claimed that they came before us.
Bah. I remember when I was registering to see the doctor earlier, the nurse was busy attending to some other patients, still holding the card with my name on it and waving it around. I should have known better than giving the card to her then. She was obviously not focusing her utmost concentration on me.
Anyhow, it did not turn out as bad as I expected. A little jab and prod there, I must have been in the room more than fifteen minutes, doing a body checkup. And that included taking a blood test, which I have not had before. I flinched with the needle pricked me, and did not bother to see the blood. My blood. At that very moment, I was wondering if would it be cool to have it come out in other colours – like green. Or blue. It did not, though. I am human, after all.
Results should be out next week, and I would still need to pay a visit to the hospital to get an x-ray done. Sigh.
I was terribly anxious and distraught, though. The doctor knew too, and she kindly asked me to calm down. Apparently, my condition was not that serious; still, it proved to be a cause for concern. And with that, I still continue to worry and dread.
The thing I fear, for now, is having to go under the knife. I harboured thoughts of having to stay in a hospital, dressed in those green patient gowns, lying on the bed with the strong, lingering smell of Dettol in the ward. And having absolutely nothing to do but wait.
I hope to avoid that at all costs.
Yes, I know. I am being paranoid.