Next it was me. A phone call from the health checkup center

Next it was me.

I went for a comprehensive medical checkup the other day.
It hadn't even been a week yet, but I got a call from the checkup center.

“Please call us back.”

Huh... 😱
A bad feeling washed over me all at once.

When I called back,
“You had a carotid artery ultrasound as an option, didn't you? We found some findings in your thyroid, and we decided it would be best for you to see a doctor soon. We will mail you the images, so please go for a consultation.”

What?!
Anyway, stay calm.

First, I called my primary care physician.
I see an internist for my blood pressure.

The doctor on the phone was young, but very calm.
“Sometimes health checkups result in an 'urgent' contact if there is something. Don't panic, but please go see a doctor soon.”

That's what he told me.
He even specifically told me which thyroid specialist in the area I should go to.
I was also grateful that he didn't say anything to stir up unnecessary anxiety, like “It's definitely not that place.”

I don't mind if they charge me for the phone call or consultation fee later.
More than that, this sense of relief was more important right now.

I called the hospital immediately.
They told me they couldn't take appointments for a first visit, but,
“Please tell us two consecutive days you can come.”

I stared at my planner and decided on Wednesday and Thursday.
I decided to take time off in the morning.

I told my workplace honestly.
Then, everyone was worried about me.

I had been taking time off often to care for my father.
I think to myself, now it's my turn...
That's exactly why I find myself thinking that I need to take on as much work as I can again.

But, once you pass 50,
I notice that I am gradually becoming less considerate of those around me.
I have to be careful.

There's no point in worrying about it.
Wednesday, I'll go to the hospital. That's all.

I told my father about it too.
Then, his eyes welled up with tears.

He must be worried about me.

At night, during our short visit.
He can be a bit childish, but he is still my father after all.

Sometimes I think about my father when he was healthy, but,
Recently, I've been getting calls from my father's friends.
I handle the calls, and they say, “I'll send a postcard.”

Those 85-year-old men are still going strong.
My father is still being cared for by people.

That makes me feel somewhat proud.
I truly respect my father for that.