“I Won’t Let Go”

On October 5, 2011, based on an odd pink patch about the size of a half-dollar that disappeared when I wasn’t freshly warm from a shower, a radiologist examined my breast with a mammogram and ultrasound.

I knew something was up when he and the technician spent a long time murmuring together and taking electronic measurements of a shadow on the screen.  When the ultrasound goop was wiped off and I was once again brassiered and sitting upright, the radiologist earnestly explained that a biopsy was next.  He explained more stuff, but when my brain processed the word “biopsy,” it’s cognitive function pretty much vapor-locked.  End of effective communication.  The radiologist could have been explaining how to rig a nuclear bomb to explode at Barnes and Noble and I would have nodded and tried to appear collected.

Rubbery legs steered me to the car, where, numb and disbelieving, I turned on the radio for my drive home.  The honey-sweet tenor of Rascal Flatts reached out of my dashboard like warm, embracing, reassuring arms.  Jesus sang to me.

I Won’t Let Go
Rascal Flatts
 
It’s like a storm that cuts a path
It breaks your will, it feels like that
You think you’re lost, but you’re not lost on your own,
You’re not alone
 
I will stand by you, I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do, and you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes, I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight and I won’t let go.

It hurts my heart to see you cry
I know it’s dark, this part of life
Oh it finds us all and we’re too small
To stop the rain, oh but when it rains

I will stand by you, I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do, and you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes, I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight and I won’t let go.

And I won’t let you fall, don’t be afraid to fall
I’m right here to catch you, I won’t let you down
It won’t get you down, you’re gonna make it
Yeah I know you can make it.

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