I like to be prepared for things. Especially when it comes to medical procedures. And especially especially when those medical procedures involve getting a needle stuck in my neck.

A couple weeks ago when I saw Dr. R she recommended that I have a repeat biopsy on my thyroid nodule. The one that's so freaking gigantic. Although she said I'm not symptomatic and that I've likely had it for years, the American Thyroid Association (I think that's the one) recommends nodules over a certain size (which mine is) be biopsied until a diagnosis can be made. And since the last biopsy I had came back non-diagnostic (which means they didn't get enough cells in the biopsy to determine anything) she thought we should do another.

"How did you do with it last time?" she asked me.

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Yesterday I was a tad run down and equally cranky. This morning, while I did get up and walk, I felt heavy and tired and run down. Wasn't sure I was going to make it until 2 p.m. for the repeat needle biopsy on my thyroid nodule.

9:30 a.m. I was getting settled at my desk and had already started counting the hours. My legs were restless and I think I looked at the clock about every 30 seconds.

Acutely aware of my nerves, I tried to take lots of deep breaths, tried to focus, tried to pray, tried to calm down. And then I think I gave in: there just was not going to be a calm Michelle until after the biopsy.

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