Somebody needs to offer medical personnel at least a short workshop on human psychology.
I’ve had two mammograms and an ultrasound today. Three hours. Sat in a waiting room with women who have one or no breasts. One woman is crying into the phone, “Honey, they found a lump.” Finally, the nurse comes in with my results and says, with a crestfallen look, “I’m SO sorry!”
“Yes?” I say, trying not to start googling 5-year survival rates.
“We have a high volume of patients right now, and the equipment started malfunctioning in one of the rooms. . .”
“Do you have my results?” I croak.
“Oh!” she says. “Yes! It’s benign. You’re fine, you can go.”
Every time I come into one of these things, the doctor says, “Your blood pressure is elevated. Why is that?”
Because I know you, people, will scare me to death and I’m getting ready for it.
Clarissa's Blog 
I am reminded of the time that the doctor called me soon after one of my boys was born. It was not a good connection but I heard cystic fibrosis. It turns out that my son is a carrier of the gene. Obviously, there is a major difference. One of them means he should probably ask any woman he wants to marry to get a genetic test. The other one meant that he likely was not going to live long enough to ask anyone to marry him. Got to love those Ashkenazi genes. :p
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I’m so glad he’s fine! It’s a terrible experience for a parent.
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