There’s not much to say about a state of calm. It’s pretty static, pretty even. Also, it can be so enjoyable that I don’t want to write anything. I simply want to swim in the calm.
I’m through the latest upheaval. Now that the decision has been made and its reality has sunk in, the storm feels past. I’m in and out of the hospital this week signing papers, having images taken, heart activity measured. I don’t mind it. Hospitals don’t bother me.
I start the trial a week Friday. I’m not worried about it.
A couple of weeks ago, my psychiatrist was talking about how medicine is an art, not a science. I’ve been sitting with that thought for awhile, and I find it soothing. It’s easier to accept a lack of answers from art than it is from science.