Edwina texted me today to say that her doctor ordered a couple of x-rays for her to “make sure I ain’t got more cancer.”
Apparently, Edwina went in to report that she’s having trouble breathing, and the doctor decided to get some chest x-rays to rule out metastasis. According to Edwina, she had to “go back down to x-ray a couple of times to get more pictures taken,” but she didn’t know why.
Now, she waits for a phone call from a doctor or nurse, who can provide her with the results of today’s test.
I promised Edwina that I’ll go back to the doctor with her if she wants, whatever she learns from the x-rays.
“I not takin that medicine again if it cancer,” Edwina texted me back.
“Let’s just wait to see what the x-rays show,” I told her, figuring that the “medicine” she’s referring to is the chemo that made my friend so sick and turned her fingernails black and the surface of her hands and feet dry.
Waiting for the phone to ring is sometimes the hardest part.