Sometimes you just have to be brave...
‘I’m five minutes away. You are ready aren’t you?’ My daughter’s anxious voice crackles over her hands-free from her car.
‘I’m ready. I’ll wait outside,’ I promise her. I pick up my small bag - check the contents, though I know I have everything I need, and rush to the loo one last time. ‘Don’t be silly,’ I tell myself sternly. ‘It’s nothing to worry about. Thousands of people do it every day. They survive.’
My daughter’s car pulls up. I fumble with the door handle but somehow get in and fasten the seat-belt.
She looks across at me. She knows I would never have had the courage to go on my own. I remember her first day at school when I had had to hold her hand and give her encouragement. When did we swap roles? I think about what is ahead of me. Assessments, tests…and then what…some kind of treatment plan involving frightening equipment? This is new to me - an alien world.
‘It’ll be fine Mum.’
‘I’m not sure…’
‘Look, your health is important.’
‘Yes.’ Of course that’s what this is all about. My health.
We are almost there. My mouth is dry. She stops the car.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’
‘No,’ I manage, ‘I’ll be fine.’ I try to sound braver than I feel.
‘I’ll phone you tonight. See how you got on. Bye Mum.’
I look on as her car merges with the flow of traffic. I turn and trudge up the steps to the large revolving door. I take a deep breath and enter the gym.
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