More frustration...and maybe a miracle

Let's review, my kidneys are failing at a steady and alarming rate. Nothing will help until my liver gets replaced. Oh yes, now I may have to take antibiotics for four to six months before the transplant due to my positive TB test. The immunosuppressents I would need to take after the transplant could cause a full blown case of TB--not good. I have never had TB, but apparently that doesn't make any difference. There's nothing I can write to convey the frustration--nothing! On Monday I went to my Primary care doctor and he said to go ahead and take another TB test, something that is usually not done.
A little background on my positive TB test. Back in the olden days, most kids got all of their immunizations at school. It was the second most dreaded day in school when the teacher passed out those miserable buff colored shot records. Of course everybody's mother always signed them. The most dreaded day was when the cafeteria smelled like alcohol--sort of the day of reckoning. You would sit in class just dreading to hear the teacher tell everyone to line up for that trip to the cafeteria. It was always the most silent walk to the cafeteria--no looking forward to lunch or chatting with friends. Thirty two little kids, sadly, slowly trudging along. I suppose that the health department only sent out one nurse. She was ably assisted by those PTA volunteers. Like all of my classmates, I avoided looking at those cafeteria tables lined with the stuff that terrifies the kids the most. I know they didn't have disposable syringes, and I wonder if they reused the same needles. Anyway as we went along that kid-sized assembly line, we got our arms swabbed, our card read (I hope), and the shot(s). They never even sat us in a chair. The modern way. The futuristic way. (Yes, this sounds dramatic. It was. Lon just told me his brother got his shot, took a couple of steps, and collapsed in someone's arms. Can you imagine letting you little kids get shots this way? Don't you want to be holding and comforting them?)
My TB test was in high school. It was during the Vietnam airlift and there were whispered rumors that someone had TB. Permission slips were sent home and the gym transformed into the efficient TB testing lab. I was a senior thinking about college and my Future. I got the test and it was read two days later. My parents got informed and I was hustled off for a chest x-ray. Thankfully it was negative and I didn't think much about it until I started teaching twenty years later (it took a long time for me to graduate from college). I said I tested positive and from then on I just got chest x-rays. Of course they were always negative.
Back to the present. Monday I had the TB test. There are different categories of positive and negative depending on your health and the size of the wheal (bump). I had absolutely NO REACTION. After I pulled up my sleeve, the nurse said she didn't even have to feel it--she could tell it was negative by just looking at it. I said, "Feel it." It was very negative. I told her I had tested positive many years ago. She said she had never heard of a positive test ever testing negative. A case of a PTA Mom misreading it or a miracle? I know what I think.