The Morning After

Celtic Tree of Life Fine Art Tapestry by Jen Delyth

I was okay heading out. I felt calm and collected until Miss Pegged pulled in front of the hospital. At that point I had a mini-meltdown.

But Miss Pegged was patient and nurturing, and after a tissue or two, YOU pushed me, ever so gently, out of the passenger seat and through the revolving front door.

It was a short walk across freshly polished marble floors - passed the auto-play baby grand piano and jumbo sized tropical fish tank, to the well-appointed, radiology reception area. If nothing else, this place is palatial.

As I announced my on-time (thanks to Miss Pegged) arrival, I envisioned myself checking into a Four Seasons Resort. While waiting my turn, I sat in the chair that most resembled a throne. I sat up straight, held my head high, and with the volume muted, played the baby monkey game on my iphone. 

I printed out a micro-version of your comments, texts, facebook messages and emails, and slid them inside my wallet next to my insurance card - proof that people are caring, kind, and generous, and that I am loved.  

Before I agreed to expose my breast, I needed to rant. The nurse, technician and doctor, stood in silence as I rambled on about the barbaric nature of this procedure, the fact that I wore deodorant despite their instructions not too, and how I would NOT under any circumstances release the rudraksha beads from my left hand, a gift from my dear friend, Aloha Steve.  

I explained how these beads had been purified in the ocean waters off the Big Island in Hawaii. How they effect all major chakras, give health and peace, and relieve fear of untimely death. In addition to this and other mystical benefits, these are my writing beads. If I've written something brilliant, it's thanks to these. Now, if I hold them, strongly in my hand, I have all of YOU with me. With you at my side, I feel brave and confident in my quest for perfect health. 

And so I disrobed, while clutching my rudraksha beads. 

I stood stoically through a series of mammograms while clutching my rudraksha beads.

I climbed the table, got on all fours, slowly lowered myself, and gave my breast up to the hole - the super-sized donut hole in the center of the table - while clutching my rudraksha beads.  

I laid completely motionless, eyes closed, rudraksha beads in hand, while the medieval machine smooched my right breast, injected it with lydocaine, and inserted the core needle used for the biopsy.

After all three of my "adorable" microcalsifications were removed, a titanium microchip was inserted to mark the spot. 

"If it makes you feel any better," said the nurse,"prostate procedures require an instrument being inserted into the rectum."  

Call me crazy, but that sounds kinky and fun under the right circumstances.

Before leaving, I explained how I would need to be given the results as soon as possible. How they should not pause while speaking - just give it to me fast. Then, after thanking them for allowing me to hold my rudraksha beads, I told them that, regardless of the outcome, I was glad I twirled fire topless at Burning Man. 

I managed to keep my mouth shut about the valium I had taken - knowing I was prohibited only because legal jargon states that you need to be clear-minded when signing the consent forms.

I continue to hold on to your emails, text messages, phone calls and comments, and I'm wearing my rudraksha beads 24/7.

I AM NOT WAITING for the results, I am focused on the NOW. I am living in the beauty of the moment.

Thank you all for accompanying me on this journey.

xoMonkeyME