Sometimes all you need...

Is your boyfriend to just call you and tell you he loves you when you're anxious about the ultrasound you're getting the next day because at the age of nineteen, the doctor found a cyst in your right breast. (Yes, the small one, a.k.a.- Shirley[as in Laverne and Shirley].) And it's not like this is causing you major identity issues because, let's face it, you always were more of a Shirley than Laverne. As much as you wanted to be loud and funny and never worried about anything, you're really a die-hard Coca-Cola fan, and you'd never be caught dead with your first initial on anything you own.
You've already studied the map for the apparent 20 minute long car ride you'll take on your own. (And you prefer to do it that way, on your own.) And you're not really scared, because you only let it scare you enough to make you cry for less than 120 seconds on the drive home from the initial doctor's visit. But you're not really not scared either. It's not like you're blogging about it the night before on a blog none of your friends read anymore (because you stopped posting regularly nine months ago), and it's not like you're writing said blog entry in the second person. No, because that would just be crazy. Fool.
But it's not like you can blame your boyfriend. Your phone battery did die, and you didn't notice it. So for hours he worried about you and had to take his mind off of it by going to a friend's. And when you were busy not noticing your phone was dead, you were taking your mind off of your present cyst issue-- cystue, if you will-- by decorating your tree and house for Christmas, and then playing three games of Disney Scene It with your 12 year old sister. Well, now she's in bed and let's face it, you need the comforting from the man who knows your breasts the best.
Luckily a half-way amusing blog post is keeping you entertained by, distracted from, and petrified of what's to come. It will be nothing, says 99.8% of your confidence, but it's amazing how that .2 still reigns. Kind of like the way that .3% ineffectiveness of the NuvaRing still looms for the three days in between the time you take it out and your cycle begins. You do nothing but pray that you're not one of those 3 out of every 1,000 women who still ends up pregnant at the end of the... however they judge it.
But what can you do but stay up (because you can't sleep anyway, anxious about tomorrow) and wait for your boyfriend to call.