if I could see

At this moment I wish I could see into the future.  Standing in front of the bathroom sink trying to decide if I should wear mascara or if I really shouldn't.  It all depends on the news I am about to get.  No, not on the news, on my reaction to it.

I think hard about it.  I try to feel which way I am leaning but I turn up empty.  I haven't a clue anymore.  The only feeling I can pull on is the thick, queasy feeling of the sedatives we have used to get me through past appointments.

I am up at 5 am.  In the shower by 5:15.
At 6:30 I will wake Beach for gym.
At 7:32 we will pull out of the driveway.
At 7:50 we will be at gym.

At 9:00 I will be standing alone in the office of my dentist as the ladies behind the desk gush over how great I look and how far I have come.  As in not balling hysterically with BC nearby making sure I don't run out.  As in not drugged.  As in not being hauled out of the office in a wheelchair.

I will cringe inside; smile a closed mouth smile (habit) and dismiss their optimism with a warning about me not being in the chair yet.

I should be able to do this.  All I need is a set of x rays.  They will tell us if the screws in my jaw are healing.  If it goes well I will be given a date for the first of the last 2 appointments I will need.  My math says the earliest that would be is the end of August, more likely September, but this whole time frame has been somewhat of a disappointing mystery novel that never ends.  When we started I had no idea how long this would take.

A month ago I couldn't imagine being left in lingo this long.  September, November, December.  I no longer know if that is too far off or too soon.  Part of me, against all logic, feels not ready.  The last 2 appointments should be pretty easy but I feel like my tolerance is thin and my fear fatter than ever. And that is if it goes well.

If it goes bad? Anyone of the screws, or even all of them, could have failed and we would have to "start" over- whatever that would mean; bone grafting?  I know I would not be capable of that and yet I know it could happen anyway.  It could happen in little steps.  Little impossible to think about steps just as it already has.

I think what I am most afraid of is crying over "good" news but that sounds insane- and a little hopeful.  It could be out of relief.  Fear.  Beneath that worry, I can hear the whisper of what bad news might do to me.  I keep thinking I should ask them to not tell me my results.  To have them call me when I am safely in my own car driving away.  I would never be brave enough to ask.

Although, I am being "brave" enough to go without BC.  He intended to go with but he has been so busy I let him forget about it and I am sneaking off without him.  Letting him sit this one out guilt free.

That is how it is done.
Tiny steps.

And I suppose a little bit of mascara.