Ah, the eve of destruction or salvation. Let the tests begin, I say. Susie says the lesions are small, and there is only one that appears to be in a position that would be suitable for a fine needle biopsy. We'll just have to see.

I talked to Sibling Units 1 & 4 today and my aunt as well. There is a slow trickle of replies to the emails I dreaded sending out, and the folks I expected to reply have done so. I am glad I sent them out—I did need to hear from them, and hear their words of support and sympathy.

There was an event a few years back. I was driving home from Florida in the van and it died on the freeway on New Years Day in Louisiana in the outskirts of the Big Easy. I had to call a tow truck, and the men who came to get us (Chris, the dogs and me) were very sympathetic. They dragged the van over to an auto parts store, helped replace the first and easiest thing, and when it didn't work, they went to work. He had a friend who knew a friend that did work at his house, not an official repair shop, but Sam agreed to do the repair over night, or promised to do his best.

The house was waaaay out in the boonies of LA, and I could almost hear the banjos on the bayou as we went further and further away from the little cluster of Civilization that clung around the freeway. Sam let me use his phone to call a few motels to try an find a room in a city beset with Sugar Bowl fever and New Years' revelers—it was a little Super 8 back out at the freeway. The tow truck driver let us pile the dogs (four of them!) into the cab of the truck and he took us back out to the motel, and they gave us the dog room. It was about 80$ for the night, when during the rest of the year it might have been 39$. The heater was broken, and of course it was the absolute coldest day of the entire year; all of our coats and clothes were, you guessed it—at the van 25 miles away. It was a miserable night. The only food nearby was a Denny's and it was not even a nice one. The next day I called Sam, and he had done it, the van was going to be ready about 1pm! We checked out and called a taxi to take us back to Sams' place. I only had a faint idea of where this was at—I knew it was on Hickory drive in Pearl River. The lady taxi driver called some of her cohorts and between them me and driving around, we managed to drive literally right to it.

I didn't realize he would expect cash. I could have gotten what he wanted (325.00, very cheep) if I had figured that out in advance, but I didn't. He accepted the check I wrote with a wobbly grace, and at the end of 24 hours, we were back on our way toward Houston.

The thing that had made it possible was the kindness of strangers. They all had some empathy for my plight, and rather than take a hard line with rules and such, things got bent and pushed and set aside. It was really my first episode with learning about having to rely on the kindness of strangers, and also asking for and getting what I needed from them. It was such a growing experience for me, through adversity the best lessons are taught. I had to face the struggle, deal with it and get through it. I took my first taxi ride, and in the end it was far far less troublesome than it could have been if I had been taken to a repair shop that didn’t open for 3 more days, and left there. There wasn't a rent car to be had in 150 miles; I had no one to drive to N.O. to come and rescue me. I had to make it happen by asking if something, anything could be done.

So, here I am faced with adversity again. I know that if I need, I can ask for help and get it. The neighbor can help care for the pets, I can get rides. I could ask someone to go to the store for me. I am not alone, but it sure is damn nice to have Sibling Unit #2 here to lend moral support.