by Melinda Gallo

Results in

I thought I was nervous when the woman took my blood for the tests, but I was even more nervous when the alarm on my computer told me it was time to go back to pick up my results. Each step felt like my last. What are they going to say? Is anything wrong with me? What could be wrong with me?

I walked down the street and looked at everyone and wondered if they were healthy. What if I found out I had something incurable or awful? What if these were my last few moments of happiness? What if my blissful existence crumbled in an instant?

I walked into the office, which was empty, and told the girl I was there to pick up my results. She handed me a sealed envelope with a smile. I told her that I also needed a receipt with all the tests listed for my insurance. While I was waiting for her to print it out, I couldn't allow myself to open the envelope. I figured that if something was so awful, I wouldn't be able to hide my grief.

I walked quickly home holding the envelope and receipt in my hand. I knew that the minute I walked in the door, I would open it up. Not a second to sit down, I just ripped open the envelope. I read through the list and everything was either great (like low cholesterol) or just right. What a relief!

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