The doctor's voice was so cheery that for a fraction of a second I thought the news was good. How can someone be so cheery when the next sentence starts. . .There's cancer... . .
Someone said to me two days beforehand that the test result I feared might be a blessing. Trying to think of a blessing it could conceivably be. Not coming up with much. Well, it forced me to get closer to a supportive friend, and to enlist a kind of support I've known for almost a year that I should ask for. And it forces me to write.
A story: Once years ago my car broke down in the rain, in the dark, on a stretch of divided road where there was no place to turn around. The police sent a tow truck, an eighty dollar tow. The tow truck driver asked me if I couldn't believe it could have been worse. The next morning I had an appointment with my wonderful counselor who said, Yes, it could have been worse. And it could have been better.
I think of those words now. It could be worse. It could be better.