Friends to count on at a time of (minor) worry

I just had a post 40, immune system isn't so strong anymore, stress-provoked (likely) female incident. Abnormal cells on the pap smear, a bioscopy and a subsequent surgical intervention. From start to finish, it was all a bit of a whirlwind. Even the intervention itself was no more than 30 minutes -- during which I was under general anaesthesia. I have a distant memory of seeing the clock in the "bloc" or operating room say 3:30 (even half blind, I can read a large round clock from across the room), and when I awoke rather suddenly, a tube down my throat, it was just 4pm. All rather surreal.

Over the past month I went from fear and surprise: me? sick? but I've the health of an ox?! To, alright, let's do what's necessary. To, ouch, snipping bits of my uterine skin is rather unpleasant, and super weird to see them floating in a test tube to be sent off to the lab. I felt pretty down and out of it after that bit of snipping... oh it would have been nice to have someone at home to take me in his arms. Ah well. After a few days my normal up-beat personality kicked back in and I felt relief that I've such a dynamic and friendly gynecologist. And after this week, I thank French socialized medicine. As long as you've all the right papers, it just flows like water. I'm now out of the clinic, quickly recovering, awaiting results, and no poorer for it.

In fact, I feel richer in many ways. Friends are there. And they are pretty wonderful. Friends on the phone, friends on email, friends on instant messages, friends there to paint the floor the morning before the intervention (ok, I'm a bit obsessive about all I need to do from now to the end of next week), friends to bring me to the clinic, and to pick me up, a friends who offered and took my boys. Even a friend who's a nurse at the clinic, there to send me into the operating room and at my side when I awoke. And there's even another (Scottish) who's offered to come over Monday with her cleaning lady to help me prep for the rental! (Oh, how I wished that a French friend would have offered a bit of house-keeping after the births of my boys, but even with some super un-subtle hints, it was not to be... thank goodness for practical Anglo-saxons!).

As we say, they just came pouring out of the woodwork. So much love, help, concern, assistance, moral boosting and physical presence. Simply kissing cheeks didn't feel like enough, my arms just have to reach out and hug them tightly to me.