Thursday, January 13

7:45 am
Philly Bound

On the train, headed for work just like a real commuter.  Pretty nice way to travel.  Not as nice as the jet though.  That's definitely my preferred vehicle.

It's kinda fun to watch the countryside roll by, look at the houses and backyards and industrial parks.  Well, then again... they don't call Jersey the Oil and Petrochemical State for nothin', ha ha.  But this is real America.  Or at least real Jersey.

Looking forward to seeing the folks at the office again, it's been awhile.  Have a few meetings this morning, then gonna pop in on Sister Mary and let her scold me for being a bad Catholic and not going to Mass in... well, a long time.  It's been even longer since my last confession.  Hell, if I went now I'd keep the poor priest in the confessional for days, catching up.  Guess I'm going to Hell.  But at least I'll be among friends.

Hoping I can get my business done and catch an earlier train back home.  Cate said she should be home from her appointment around 3-ish.  Maybe we can go out and do something together, catch a movie or have a cup of coffee or go shopping.

If she feels up to it, anyway.  She has that  female torture appointment today, pelvic exam and pap smear and boob squeeze and all that crap.  I don't envy her.  I've been through four pregnancies, watched Dorothea endure the most unbelievable indignities during exams and labor and delivery.  The whole thing makes me queasy.

I know this gyno stuff is necessary but still, I don't know how women do it.  They're so much stronger than us guys.  We get the old "turn your head and cough" every year but that's usually about it.  I can't say I particularly enjoyed my colonoscopy a couple years ago, but at least I was knocked out for the really unpleasant part.  Thank God I don't have somebody shoving metal utensils up my orifices and cranking them open, while I'm wide awake and unsedated.  Women may have pussies, but men ARE pussies.  The human race would have died out long ago if we had to give birth.

Yeah, maybe we'll just stay in and I'll pamper Cate a little.  Assuming she even wants me near her.  It's been my experience that when women are reminded just what they have to suffer through from a reproductive system standpoint, they aren't too keen on having men around for awhile.

Come to think of it I'm kind of surprised Cate has this appointment.  I thought she did this stuff all over the summer.  I know she went to see her Gyno back in August, when we were on break.  She drove in from the Hamptons House to do it.  I don't remember her saying anything about a problem, then or now.

God I hope there's not a problem.

But then again... the way she's been acting lately.... I know she's worrying or thinking hard about something, she has been for weeks.  After what Dorothea told me I thought maybe it was to do with the Runaway Incident or what D said to Cate... but maybe it's not.  Maybe it's something else.  Something medical, maybe.

Cate's too young for menopause.  Hell, she's only 42.  She's not on the pill or on any other kind of birth control that could cause problems, like Dorothea went through.  There's no need.  I'm firing blanks, have been since Romeo was born, long before I met Cate.

Christ, what if she found a lump in her breast or thinks there's something else wrong?  Jesus... She'd tell me, wouldn't she?  And she wouldn't wait for a routine appointment if it was something she's really worried about. I'm sure of that.  She'd get in to see her Doc immediately.

But after what she's been through Cate tends to minimize her health concerns.  Christ, she survived being shot in the back, went through surgery and physical therapy and all the trauma that comes with that.  She takes care of herself, eats right, works out.  She rarely gets sick, has no time or patience for it when she does.  She just pushes through it.

Shit.  I hope there isn't more to this doctor's appointment than she's telling me.  She hasn't actually told me anything about it, other than it's her Gyno and it's today.

Fuck.  Now I'm gonna be worried about her all day.  And I'll probably piss her off when I get home and ask her if everything's okay, because she'll be able to see right through me and know I got myself all spun up again over something I have no control over and that will probably turn out to be nothing.

I'll call her as soon as I get to the Foundation office, ask her point-blank to tell me if there's something wrong. I know she'll laugh at me, but I have to do it or I won't be able to concentrate.  I'd call her now but this isn't a conversation I want to have in earshot of complete strangers on public transportation.

Maybe I'll text her, then call her when I get to Philly.

5:30 pm
Home

Finally made it home, day didn't go as planned.  Way more going on with the Foundation than I thought.  It's all good, I'm excited about what's coming up, but the meetings took a helluva lot longer than I thought they would.

I'm sure I was a joy to be around, though I made a conscious effort to be nice and calm and cheerful.  But I was totally distracted, thinking about Cate.  Didn't get to talk to her this morning, she was in meetings.  She did answer my 5th text though, and said everything is fine and to stop freaking out.  Her words:  "It's just a docs appt, for fuck's sake!  Settle down!"

Apparently I can't hide my panic via text, either.

She's on the phone now, talking to Danny.  Don't know what about, but from her expression it's not their usual brother-sister Slick-and-Slick back and forth.  She looks serious, a little sad.  When I kissed her hello and said hey to Danny into her phone she gave me a little smile and told me she'll start dinner when she gets off the phone.  I didn't want to pry so I told her I'm gonna sneak in a quick workout, to take her time.

Deep breath.  It's not what I think.  I always assume the worst, and Cate always reminds me of that old adage about Asses and U and Me.  But she says in my case I'm the only one looking like an Ass; it doesn't affect her at all.  I tell her she's better at being a SmartAss, ha ha.

I need to work out, calm down.  We have all night to talk, for Cate to unwind me yet again.

11:50 pm
Bed

Christ, what's up with the universe this week?  Karma's all kinds of fucked up.  Maybe the Mayans had it wrong -- all the apocalypse shit will happen in 2011, not 2012.

Waiting on Cate to come to bed -- she's in the shower now.  She had one hell of an evening, dealing with me and with Danny and with sad news.  She's had to play fucking psychiatrist to everybody tonight, and she won't talk to me about how she feels.  She just said "soon."

Soon?  I wonder how damned long from now that's gonna be.

She was still on the phone with Danny when I finished my run.  I guess she felt guilty about making me wait for dinner because she was multi-tasking, cooking dinner and talking to him at the same time.  I tried to help but she just shooed me away, so I went to shower.  Came back in and she had dinner on the table and the call was over.  Of course I immediately started in with "Are you okay? What's wrong?  Baby, please tell me your doctor didn't find anything wrong."

Cate just took a deep breath and told me to sit down and eat, she'd deal with one thing at a time.  Then she told me some really sad news.

Danny's had a rough day too.  Seems he and Charity might be on the verge of calling it quits.  He's planning to volunteer to go out on some counterterrorism operation to Pakistan, she's scared shitless about it (understandably) and told him she doesn't know if she can handle not knowing where their relationship is going anymore.  Danny doesn't want to lose her but he's not big on ultimatums, either.  So he needed to talk it out with his best friend.

And even worse, today he and the other instructors got tragic news, which he needed to pass on to Cate. One of their former students was seriously wounded in a roadside bombing in Afghanistan.  I remember her -- Gabby.  She was one of Bobby's students when I was at the Center for training.  Cute gal, little but tough as Hell.  She was engaged to be married.  I posed for a photo with her and her fiance' and her parents at her graduation, the day she got her badge.  Apparently she was the only survivor of the attack; 2 other agents and a driver were killed.  She has a traumatic brain injury and lost a foot and a hand.

Jesus.

It makes me feel sick to realize that could have been, could someday be, my Cate.  This agent was somebody's wife, daughter, sister, friend, colleague.  Now she's clinging to life, and if she survives she'll never be whole again.  Cate was almost stoic when she told me the news, but I could hear the sadness in her voice. When it comes to stuff like this -- cop stuff, military stuff -- she's able to compartmentalize it, detach herself.   It's almost like it makes sense to her in a weird sort of way.  I guess that's the training kicking in.

But when it comes to personal stuff... that's another story.  She locks it away inside too, until she's ready to talk about it, but it bothers her.  It's almost like she's at war with herself when she's dealing with her emotions. That's how she's been lately, and I know this stuff with Danny and Gabby is just going to make it harder for her.  I want so damned much to help her, to be her shoulder to cry on, but it's not time yet.  She'll just push me away.

Then of course my poor wife had to deal with her neurotic husband.  I must have asked her 20 times if she was okay, how her doctor's appointment went, what was wrong.  She finally put down her fork, reached across the table, grabbed my hand and said  "Jon, look at me.  I'm FINE.  Well, except for the gonnorhea."

I was so shocked I must have looked ridiculous.  I know Cate got a pretty disgusting view of my mouthful of half-chewed salmon because I could feel my jaw drop.  She just stared at me all serious for a minute, then a little smirk curled up on her lips and  I realized she was fucking with me.  What was that I said earlier about her being a Smartass?  Guess I deserved that though, being such a worrywart pain in the ass.

After she finished laughing at me she very patiently explained why she went to the gyno today.  Turns out I was right -- she did do all her yearly stuff back this summer.  But what she neglected to tell me was she had an abnormal Pap result.  She found out when I was in Latin America, so she didn't mention it.  Her Doc had her come in for another test back in September and wanted to do another one 3 months later just to be extra-sure nothing was wrong.  Her September test was abnormal too, but Cate's Doc isn't particularly worried.

Her exam today went fine; she seems healthy, nothing the Doc's concerned about.  Cate will get the Pap results in a couple weeks.  She said she and her Doc had a long conversation about her overall health and her sex life (which I hope she bragged about) and her stress and family history.  Cate says she's not worried and I shouldn't be either -- she's just getting older.  Like me.

Okay, that comment was a little uncalled for, ha ha.  But I guess I just have to trust Cate when she tells me she's really okay, and if she's ever not okay we'll deal with it.  I hate the thought of that, but of course she's right.  I can't protect her from everything.  Hell, I can't protect her from much.  She's the strong one, the one who can take care of herself.  Even if I don't like that idea.

She's also right when she reminds me again, for the millionth time, that I have to stop working myself up over shit I can't control.

One thing I can control, I can do for her, is tell her over and over again that I love her and I'm here for her when she's finally ready to share her burden.  I'm gonna do it again when she comes to bed.