The Result

by HelluvaGirl

Everyone is gone. I’m alone in the room, in a ghost-like building that once must have been a busy place.

As I tick off the tasks of the day before leaving, my eyes slide to a phone number.

Why wait for Tuesday? They said a week but I’ll try today.

What’s your surname again? I can’t hear you well enough. Ah, yes – the results are ready.

As the nurse says the last words, her voice sounds cheerful. Did she look at the papers? If she did, it must be fine. She wouldn’t say it like that if it was positive, right?

You know that crashing-dam sensation in your solar plexus? I thought I wasn’t afraid. I had time to get ready for the worst and I was so composed before that phone call.

Yet an hour away from a possible verdict, I feel soft. My palms get damp. I take deep breaths, mechanically whispering it will be ok anyway, I will be ok, whatever the result.

I go to the clinic as soon as I can.

Are you sure that’s it? There are no more tests to take? That’s the definite result?

I ask, raising my head from the white paper.

Yes. You don’t have to do anything else. That’s your result.

Thank you.

I feel exhausted. At the same time, I want to call everyone in the world and scream with joy. Instead, I quietly repeat: Thank you, God, again.


My problem is that I stick to ideals too much. Friends don’t do this. People shouldn’t act like that. It’s unthinkable.Etc.

I have expectations. I expect to be at the receiving end of certain attitudes, conduct and display of principles. That need of mine has been undergoing some serious shock-treatment lately. I am doing my best to extract meaning out of things which don’t possess apparent logic in them. I try to keep the balance, constantly reconsidering my values. I want to pass this level to be somewhere without the necessity to go through… this.

I mustn’t expect things to be of a certain nature; people to behave in ways I find acceptable or favourable. The part of me having ideas of how things should be is the actual shit magnet. Hence the treatment: so that I learn to accept the world, life, humans, relationships and behaviours as they are, no matter how little sense they make to me.


I may be a passive aggressive bitch but I don’t text him to tell the news.