Sacco and Vanzetti

Tomorrow I will see the surgeon-oncologist and find out something or nothing. Oddly enough, I am more afraid of the nothing. I can endure many things, but the waiting and not knowing is about to make me explode. It occurred to me that this is part of the process. Kind of like the opera, "Sacco and Vanzetti."

A few years ago, our local opera conductor wrote his magnum opus. A merry, whirlwind ride through the investigation, arrest, trial, conviction and eventual execution of Sacco and Vanzetti. It was long, really long. In the next to last scene, the two accused men and another accomplice were led out, one by one, and as each one disappeared from the stage, there came a flashing of lights indicating they had met their fate in the electric chair. This particular scene was drawn out in painstaking detail (kind of like my description here). My friend's son spoke for us all when he volunteered to go pull the switch himself just to get it over with. The execution scene was then followed by a raucous musical number.

So I am thinking, by the time I go through test after test after test, I will be relieved at whatever diagnosis they throw in my direction. Now it all makes sense. I only have to start rehearsing the raucous musical number that follows.