The doctor called. I missed it. He left a message that said we had to talk about my blood test results. My first feeling was something was wrong, followed by relief--a relief that something could be wrong. Relief because I would be forced into a hospital, forced to rest. I don't have to juggle three jobs and school and trying to please everyone and myself. They could all fuck off and I could just get some rest.
I talk to the doctor tomorrow. I'm sure everything is just fine; 90% sure even. I'm glad everything is going to be just fine. I'm more concerned that I was relieved at the thought that it might not be.
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