A crisis . . . but it looks like I'll live

It was a terrible start to the week. I have been experiencing a cough and the black and bleak thought that I was getting sick again lurked in my head. A couple of weeks ago I'd also woken up hot and sweaty three nights out of five and I started to worry.
I was kind of doing ok but on Monday morning Ishbel was also having a little crisis, suddenly bursting out crying over friendship woes as we walked Bella around the block. As I handed her over to her teacher with a request for Mrs Brawn to ring me when she could, I fell apart and the tears started to fall.
I'd seen my GP on Friday and she'd given me a form to get a blood test if I thought I needed it. When I went to the pathology place in Springwood on the way to the office there was a queue out the door and I abandoned that course of action.
By the time I reached my office, much to Gillian's consternation, I was bawling and very, very scared. Luckily, I managed to make an appointment to see my GP that morning. She made me go and get the blood test done, assuring me that it was more likely to be a cough due to a virus than the return of my disease.
The ladies in the pathology office in Blaxland were both ladies I knew; Betty who used to teach Ishbel swimming and another lady (a Scot) who used to work in a shoe shop in Springwood and remembered that I had wee twin boys. Not so wee now I told her. She was very very kind as I dissolved in tears again.
On Tuesday morning Sue (my GP) rang me early to let me know that the blood test results had come back and all was well. She said the whatever it is that they measure lymph function with had been 65 when I was diagnosed with the Hodgkins 3 years ago - now it is 0.1. Sue said, in fact, she'd not seen it so low. "Oh no, what's wrong with me!!!!!" I asked. What a relief!