Can of Worms

Last year I made a promise to myself to retire from work in twelve months.  I didn't last that long.  I retired within nine months.  The reason?  Mel said she wanted to go ahead with her HD predictive testing.  I knew what it meant.  Meetings, counselling and results; tears or elation.  I knew I couldn't be her support person while I was working. 
Mel's clinic specialist spoke with Merv and me in August last year while she sent Mel off to the hospital pharmacy to wait for her meds.  The doctor said she was concerned about Mel's shaking and movement and suggested Mel consider having the HD predictive testing.  I knew Mel wanted to do this.  It was me whose head stayed buried deep in the sand.  It was no easy decision to retire but Mel's health and well being outweighed all else. 
Mel's specialist was the type of person you may want as a best friend.  Happy, smiley, full of cheer and always looking at the bright side of things.  On the other hand she didn't mess around, she said what she thought and what she knew, but always in a positive light.  Mel loved her.
As in most public systems she left the clinic before Mel knew of her results.  She asked me if I would send her a message about Mel's results via the clinic secretary.  I said I would.  I didn't.
Once we knew I couldn't bring myself to share the news with her.  A lump rose in my throat and I kept the news to family and a few friends.
Only a few days ago while Mel was waiting for her appointment with her new specialist there stood Dr Happy!  We chatted a little and I suggested Mel share her news with her in a room where she could not be overheard by waiting patients. 
I didn't feel guilty I hadn't shared Mel's news with her before this time.  It was always going to be face to face or not at all.  Our actions or the lack of them can sometimes open, 'a can of worms.'  I don't have a magic wand to wave, I don't know what will happen next but I do know I can be there for Mel.