Each woman in the crowd sits single in her thoughts,
Knowing and unknowing what awaits.
No-one coughs or moves, the air is full of silence.
Focussing through freezing fog, rehearsing her first turn,
The awful story that unfolds,
Each listens now again to hear her name,
Waiting for the second call.

On 8 July 2006, Sandra posted to a forum:

A few weeks ago I posted a couple of my poems, and received some supportive comments. Although still hesitant about the wisdom of doing this, I am cautiously now posting another, prompted by the number of messages which have been posted recently about the difficulty of waiting for test results. This has put me in mind of my experience last December, waiting in the breast scanning clinic. Although completely full, the waiting room was totally silent. This is what I wrote about it afterwards. At that time I had just completed a year of invasive treatments, and was anxious about the possibility of the cancer coming back - "waiting for the second call" - which duly happened all too shortly thereafter.

This is a short and probably rather slight piece, but I hope it captures the mood of the situation. (Please respect my copyright, albeit under my pseudonym of "Jpoet".)