Those too-close-for-comfort booths

Yesterday I spoke with my mom and she told me she was robbed a couple of days ago at her dentist's office of $855.  This morning I took her out to breakfast so that we could talk.  We went to a place I have never been before and, when we walked into the restaurant, I wanted to leave.  They only had booths there and they were small.  I was afraid I wouldn't fit, but I didn't want the visit to be about me.  I barely fit into the booth.  Actually, I really didn't fit. It was cutting off my circulation, but I just kept silent and was there to support my mother.

Thankfully my mom is okay.  She has been heartsick since this happened and so was I.  My mother could have been hurt and, for a purely selfish reason, $500 of that money was for me.  She was trying to pay me back some money she borrowed about a year ago.  In the end, though, it is just money and obviously human life is so much more important.  She hadn't reported the incident to the police, so I convinced her to do so.  Even if the worst happens and she can't get the money back, maybe it will prevent it from happening to someone else.

After we said our goodbyes, I had planned to go to the beach for a walk but I turned around and drove back home.  I was feeling as big as a house after sitting in that booth and I just felt so insecure to then head down to the beach.  I know no one really cares.  The place where I walk has a path near the water designed for walkers, runners and bikers.  It is meant for people with clothes on trying to get exercise in right along the water versus those laying out on the beach in their bathing suits. In that moment though, having squeezed in that booth, I just wanted to go home.  Perhaps it was to hide away.  I just don't know.  I was able to exercise later in the day, so I pushed through and sort of got over myself.  It felt good to sweat and walk away the tension I was feeling.  It's important for me to do that and not to eat over all of that.

Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment with my dermatologist.  It's a melanoma check-up appointment.  I'm a bit concerned because I think he's going to perform two biopsies on me.  There's a mole under my arm near where the surgeon did an incision to check on the spread of the cancer.  The last time I saw the dermatologist, he was concerned about it and warned that he may want to do a biopsy.  Then I found another spot in a very private area that is causing me a little bit of stress.  It looks suspicious.   By this time, I know what to look for in terms of new spots on my body or changes on spots already existing.  I know that, in the past, I would try to run away from the fear toward food and make some excuse not to go in and see the doctor especially since it's in a private area.

Burying my head in the sand is not going to erase the facts of the situation.  Besides, I get to take this one step at a time.  I'm going to tell the doctor what's concerning me, he will take a look at the two areas and then only perform biopsies if he feels it is necessary.  This does not mean I have cancer, just concerns at this point.  I tell you, the black and white thinking is so hard to get away from but it's what I must do. I know there are shades of grey in this world and that I don't need to jump to the worse case conclusion.  Geez, why do I do that anyway?  Of course I'll report what the doctor decided to do so stay tuned.