The Mammogram
What it all stirs up in the spouse...
Every since Gwen, my wife, turned a certain age, she’s had to go get a mammogram. My poem needs no explanation. I found the words to tell the story and maybe a way to invite you to wait—as I wait; as she waits.
Putting this on Substack is not an invitation for you to quote me Bible verses about waiting and how “fear is not of God.” Bible verses are not fortune cookies, you know.
It’s a raw poem and I’m not sorry about it being raw. This waiting—this advent season is sometimes not all its cracked up to be if you want to know the truth. All the ‘quick end of the year medical tests because we’ve met our deductible’ kind of living may really need to be re-thought. Waiting and Christmas somehow don’t go together. Or just maybe, they really do belong together. Advent and Christmas; mammograms and waiting for the results.
It’s hard work to wait. Seriously, look at that techincians face in the photo image. What is she smiling about? I have no idea.
Here’s the deal, I’ll update you in the comments when the results come in.
Till then, wait with me.
Steve
A note to Substack new subscribers…. first of all, welcome! My Substack is a reader supported platform. I write prose for everyone, but the invitation to take a deeper step in with me is to become a supporting subscriber and choosing to support my work here. I’m most grateful to those of you who do!
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