Fear

"I never feel like smiling!" she wailed, "I just wish I could smile!"

I knew she was exhausted. Lack of schedule, lots of holiday late-nights. It was all crashing down on her.

But still, what a thing to say. I imagined time flashing forward. She is 30 and weeping. She can't find a smile or an honest laugh. She is filled with self-doubt and a nagging negative voice that follows her every move. What does it even feel like to laugh anymore? All too familiar. Maybe it is simply a tired six-year-old talking. And then.

Atypical. The doctor's confident reassurances faded into the distance as the word settled in. Yes, it's OK, we got it all. But what if I hadn't found it? What if I miss the next one? I flash forward and she's not even there. My God...