doctors, Josh and Michael, we have long dispensed with the formalities, have decided to go back to square one. They openly admit that they cannot explain why I still have pain on my left side.
So, today, I’m getting an MRI scan that will x-ray my entire upper torso. I have asked if this harmful to the baby and I have been assured the baby will be fine. I did notice that it was only Michael who said this to me. I must confess that I didn’t completely trust his answer. He was less and less committed to this baby — our baby — because of my continual battle in wrestling cancer. The bad.
There is a mystique — a godliness to doctors. I have noticed this more and more. Doctors really do believe that they perform miracles every day, but my doctor, my doctor, did not seem to recognize the miracle that we had made together, beyond medicine. This was wreaking havoc on both of us.
Doctors were definitely different than lawyers, at least the lawyer I had been married to for eighteen years, who has since married my best friend. Robert and Carrie being married was the least of my problems these days. I would have to call their marriage: the good.
≈≈
Michael and I have been busy moving and combining our things into the beach house at a glacial pace. The good.
We are supposed to marry in three weekends at the beach house on the 21 st of February. Emily will finally get to be a flower girl, while Elaina will be my only bridesmaid and my two sons will be groomsmen for Michael. We have a judge coming from Seattle, who is an old friend of Michael’s from our college days. The cake has been ordered as well as the flowers. My dress is a beautiful crème colored sleeveless number that flows like spun sugar around me. Michael’s black tuxedo is hanging in the quaint master bedroom of the beach house already. Elaina has already placed crème colored candles in candelabras throughout the house. The caterer has already created the menu with a nice Pacific Northwest cuisine theme to serve sixty.
It will be an intimate elegant beach party for our closest friends. After much debate, we’ve included Robert and Carrie on the guest list.
My mother is coming and so is my father, much to my complete surprise. Somehow, I know that an Ellie-is-your-only-daughter-and-she-had-or-may-still-have-cancer-and-we-all-need-to-be-there-for-her discussion has ensued with my mother doing all of that talking to my father. My secret conclusion: it was about time my dad stepped back into my life after a twenty-year absence with only the placation of birthday cards and infrequent phone calls. Yeah team! The good.
≈≈
Now, I lay in this white tube ticking off these good and bad things and fight the claustrophobic feeling and the anxiety that ensues about staying still for more than half hour. Why is it that no matter who you marry there comes this little inkling of doubt on whether this is the right thing to do or not? This has come about with even Michael and me because of this baby. It is ironic that the very thing that probably caused us to move faster toward this juncture of impending nuptials is the very thing that threatens to undo all of these illustrious plans between us. The bad.
At least, we finally got everything out in the open yesterday. We were at my house working with the movers on what to move to the beach house and what to leave behind. Michael and I had a rare private moment in the master bedroom. The movers were outside arranging bedroom furniture from the kid’s rooms and the master bedroom into their gigantic moving truck.
The kids were negotiating deals with their friends for some of the stuff they’d discovered in the garage they no longer wanted. Not wanting to dampen their entrepreneurial enthusiasm; I gladly sent them off with their various treasures. Frankly, it gave Michael and I a half day of alone time , which we hadn’t been able to have since, well, since this whole new idea of getting married and moving to the
So, today, I’m getting an MRI scan that will x-ray my entire upper torso. I have asked if this harmful to the baby and I have been assured the baby will be fine. I did notice that it was only Michael who said this to me. I must confess that I didn’t completely trust his answer. He was less and less committed to this baby — our baby — because of my continual battle in wrestling cancer. The bad.
There is a mystique — a godliness to doctors. I have noticed this more and more. Doctors really do believe that they perform miracles every day, but my doctor, my doctor, did not seem to recognize the miracle that we had made together, beyond medicine. This was wreaking havoc on both of us.
Doctors were definitely different than lawyers, at least the lawyer I had been married to for eighteen years, who has since married my best friend. Robert and Carrie being married was the least of my problems these days. I would have to call their marriage: the good.
≈≈
Michael and I have been busy moving and combining our things into the beach house at a glacial pace. The good.
We are supposed to marry in three weekends at the beach house on the 21 st of February. Emily will finally get to be a flower girl, while Elaina will be my only bridesmaid and my two sons will be groomsmen for Michael. We have a judge coming from Seattle, who is an old friend of Michael’s from our college days. The cake has been ordered as well as the flowers. My dress is a beautiful crème colored sleeveless number that flows like spun sugar around me. Michael’s black tuxedo is hanging in the quaint master bedroom of the beach house already. Elaina has already placed crème colored candles in candelabras throughout the house. The caterer has already created the menu with a nice Pacific Northwest cuisine theme to serve sixty.
It will be an intimate elegant beach party for our closest friends. After much debate, we’ve included Robert and Carrie on the guest list.
My mother is coming and so is my father, much to my complete surprise. Somehow, I know that an Ellie-is-your-only-daughter-and-she-had-or-may-still-have-cancer-and-we-all-need-to-be-there-for-her discussion has ensued with my mother doing all of that talking to my father. My secret conclusion: it was about time my dad stepped back into my life after a twenty-year absence with only the placation of birthday cards and infrequent phone calls. Yeah team! The good.
≈≈
Now, I lay in this white tube ticking off these good and bad things and fight the claustrophobic feeling and the anxiety that ensues about staying still for more than half hour. Why is it that no matter who you marry there comes this little inkling of doubt on whether this is the right thing to do or not? This has come about with even Michael and me because of this baby. It is ironic that the very thing that probably caused us to move faster toward this juncture of impending nuptials is the very thing that threatens to undo all of these illustrious plans between us. The bad.
At least, we finally got everything out in the open yesterday. We were at my house working with the movers on what to move to the beach house and what to leave behind. Michael and I had a rare private moment in the master bedroom. The movers were outside arranging bedroom furniture from the kid’s rooms and the master bedroom into their gigantic moving truck.
The kids were negotiating deals with their friends for some of the stuff they’d discovered in the garage they no longer wanted. Not wanting to dampen their entrepreneurial enthusiasm; I gladly sent them off with their various treasures. Frankly, it gave Michael and I a half day of alone time , which we hadn’t been able to have since, well, since this whole new idea of getting married and moving to the
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