Dread

It gathers in the pit of my stomach, readying itself for the explosion. A bomb, made up of fear, anxiety and dread. Drawing it's strength from the very reaches of my body, like a mighty sea formed from the smallest mountain streams. Waiting. Waiting for the fuse to be lit.

Thursday my wife and I both got home from work and planned to relax the rest of the night and watch tv. After supper I was in the room flipping through the channels while she took a shower. She came into the room and sat down, with an odd expression on her face. She looked at me and said "I just found a lump". I knew what she meant, but was speechless. She works parttime as a Lactation Consultant, so she knows to check herself often. This was the first time she'd ever found anything. Immediately, subconsciously, the worst-case scenario started to play itself in my mind. "It's probably nothing", I told her. She agreed, but made an appointment with the doctor for Monday to get it checked. Thursday to Monday is a very long time to wait. Trying to go about our daily lives as we normally would wasn't that hard, but the unspoken fear started to grow. Monday morning the bomb was poised to do its damage, as I worked all morning while she went to the doctor. At noon she called and said the dr. wasn't concerned at all, but scheduled her for a mamogram just to be safe. I was relieved. The bomb was defused.