I had a biopsy today, that required a large needle. (I won’t be offended if you don’t want to read this post, if things like needles and weird biopsies make you squeamish).
In the scheme of things, after going through emergency c-sections and open-heart surgeries, this was a relatively minor procedure. But it involved a large needle and my tongue, and I’d been dreading the possibility for a couple months now.
I have had a weird blister-like growth on my tongue and it would not go away. And it liked to bleed on occasion, resulting in a very expensive ER visit to stop said bleeding. The ER doctor/nurse suggested follow-up and then the regular doctor suggested I see the specialist, and today was finally the day to see what this crazy, annoying thing was.
And that required a complete removal of the growth, and a biopsy. The doctor was VERY reassuring that it was probably one of a few simple things, none of which were anything scary like cancer, so that was comforting. But I still had to get through the needle injection and removal.
I know I gushed about my husband already this month, but as I processed this minor traumatic event, I knew I wanted to mention him again in my Gratituesday post. The man is a rock, steady as they come, and he is such a great comforting presence for me. He has been with me through every doctor appointment with two difficult pregnancies, every procedure, every ultrasound and echocardiogram, both c-sections, and while he couldn’t hold my hand during the open heart surgery, he was there in the waiting room, holding and waiting.
Allan and I approach most tough situations completely differently. He is a jokester, I am serious. He is steady, I can be a nervous wreck. He is calm, and I am often… not calm. It’s a fun life. After almost 20 years together, I’d like to think I’ve learned to joke more and am slightly more calm. And I know he is more serious than he used to be, but only VERY occasionally, and if I INSIST he be serious. (See, here I am, joking a little!) It hasn’t always been easy, this growing together, and growing towards one another. We’ve hit our fair share of road bumps, and have had some significant dips on the roller coaster of marriage.
BUT… when the doctor came close with the (very large) needle, the nurse asked if I wanted her to hold my hand. My husband asked the same question at the same time. I immediately wanted my husband’s strong, steady hand. The needle in the tongue was every bit as awful as you can imagine, and then some, and then my tongue required stitches, which was a completely different needle and thread! It was only after it was all over that I realized I’d squeezed the life out of my husband’s fingers. I didn’t even think about it – I just KNEW I could hold his hand, and he could take whatever pressure I put on him.
Steady. Calm. Present. Comforting. (And always, always there with the jokes).
I am so thankful.
