Can't stop thinking

about the woman having her blood drawn in the chair around the corner from me this morning. I didn't realize until I got up to leave that she was weeping, silently but uncontrollably. The phlebotomy staff, ordinarily a tough, no-nonsense crew, was huddled around her, one taking vial after vial of blood, another simply crouching next to her, holding her hand while murmuring sensible but gently reassuring things like, "You don't know anything for sure until the tests come back." I hope she got good news today. I hope that's not a totally futile hope.