…as I steel myself for a series of medical appointments with family members tomorrow.
I’m worried.
Irrational fears plague me…because I’m convinced that they aren’t quite so “irrational”. I’m preparing myself for bad news…even after months where good news hasn’t exactly been abundant…I’m not ready for it.
I want to get away. I desperately need a vacation…a true mental and physical rest. But I don’t see that happening for a very long time…and I’m afraid the stress will continue to compound before it even hints at easing off. I’m caught in a ridiculous catch-22: I need to get away, but I simply can’t at a time like this!
I can’t panic…and I won’t panic. At the moment, my fears are intangible and without substance…but the mind has ways of convincing itself of the strangest things. I certainly wish it would stop…I always knew my over-active imagination would lead me to a bad end.
Prayers, crossed-fingers and the rubbing of rabbit feet would be most appreciated right about now… 
