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October 19, 2010

I did not get the call this morning, which is great news.

Backspace. I got three calls this morning, and each time I nearly went into cardiac arrest. After all, I was waiting to hear from Fancy Shmancy Clinic, which would let me know by 10 a.m. whether I could continue my day or needed to find a sub and get to the clinic in the next three hours.

7:15 a.m., driving to work. Sister calls. “Well? What’s the word?” “It’s 7:15 a.m.! Get off my phone! You know I am freaking out!”

9:15 a.m., teaching math. Sister texts. I text back: “You are giving me a heart attack.” She responds: “Did you really think they would let you know by text?”

10:01 a.m., I exhale. I’ve made it past the deadline. I’m in the clear. The phone rings. For the third time today, my heart stops.

It’s my dear friend who I haven’t spoken to in a few weeks. “I know I shouldn’t be calling you right now because you’re freaking out, but I just read your blog. If you need a ride to the clinic, I’ll take you.”

OK, that third heart attack was worth it. It warmed my cold, bitter, brittle heart.

We go in Thursday morning. Party!

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