Tomorrow night is the celebration of Beltane (or Beltaine as I prefer). The sabbat of the Great Marriage of the God and Goddess, the unity that results in harvest. It's the time when, long ago and far away, men and women retired to the fields and made like the beasts. There was much wine, much song, much dancing.
And so, to celebrate, I'm having my womanhood sliced and diced.
I know I've mostly moaned and whined about how I won't be able to do yoga or kickboxing. But that's all a really good cover for what's going on.
Because, you see, even though this is a fairly routine procedure, I'm pretty sure what's going on down there. And it ain't good.
I've had decidedly strange/odd/abnormal twinges, feelings, pains for a few months now. I've chalked it up to paranoia, to pulled muscles, to anxiety, to bad Chinese food. But, when my reiki practicioner mentioned that she felt something "going on down there" and when I felt such a blockage in yoga that I literally cried out and collapsed onto the mat, well.....
So, maybe it's nothing and maybe it's something. I guess we'll find out a week or so after tomorrow. But I'm scared. And worried.
And I wish I could just be ignorant and celebrate Beltaine and prepare for the upcoming bountiful harvests and be happy.