You’d think that given how much of our lives are spent in limbo–never quite knowing what awaits us–we’d get used to it. Not so.
Lots of things in my life are in limbo at the moment. In addition to having three articles due in the next three days and feeling a bit stalled on all of them, other things have me sitting on pins and needles.
As I await the results of genetic testing for BRCA1, BRCA2 and a host of other mutant possibilities, I find myself playing out different scenarios in my head. This time around, the results have little to do with me, since I’ve been there, done that when it comes to cancer. Rather, it’s my girls’ lives that will be most affected by the results.
I’m also gearing up for my first colonoscopy later this week. While I haven’t experienced anything suspicious and it’s just that time, age-wise, to have the test, anything that’s set up to prowl for signs of cancer unnerves me.
Fortunately, one situation that’s no longer in limbo has to do with my brother. Following his relentless threatening phone calls, he was picked up and booked for carrying a concealed weapon. For the time being, he’s sitting in the Jacksonville County Jail in Florida. The bond is too large for him to pay, and I can’t think of a soul who’s jumping at the chance to put down the money to get Joe back on the streets. He’ll remain in jail until his court date in late February, at least.
Edwina texted me yesterday to see how I’m doing.
“I miss you and talking to you,” she wrote.
“Me, too.” I responded. “Let’s plan to get together once things settle down.”
“Ok,” she replied.
Edwina knows a thing or two about being in limbo.