Day 5

I'm in!  I have formally joined the world of blogging.  This was always a fantasy for me, but I didn't have what I felt to be an adequate inspiration.  Now I have an overwhelming inspiration.

Last Wednesday I went for a followup mammogram and sonagram.  When it was over the radiationist (she's an MD by the way) informed me I had a 2.5 cm mass in my right breast.  When I asked if it could be a cyst she answered, "No, based on my experience these types of growths are almost always a cancer."

I was shocked.  This is not how the news is delivered in the movies.  I'm supposed to be made up and in a pretty outfit, sitting next to my husband in a doctor's office.  My husband and I are holding hands.  The doctor is calm, caring, and delivers the news with a flourishing offer of a box of Kleenex.  I take one and  bravely dot at my eyes, not smearing my eyeliner and mascara while sharing a loving look with my husband.

In real life I text my sister immediately with the news.  I schedule a  biopsy for Friday and get in my car.  My sister calls me and I cry and she prays.  I get home ok.  I've decided to withhold the information from my husband until we get the old sick cat, Mooch, to the vet.  She's not doing well and we believe today is the day we will have to put her down.  I think we need to take our grief items one step at a time.

When I walked in the door my husband was on the phone with my primary doctor's office.  They wanted to schedule an appt for Thursday.  When that wass done my husband asked me what was going on and I stood in the living room, statuelike, my hands fisted tightly, tears falling down my face.  I explain that I hadn't wanted it to be that way, I had wanted to tell him after we had dealt with Mooch, that we could only deal with one crisis at a time, but there was a tumor in my breast and they think it's cancer and I have a biopsy appointment on Friday.

Wow.

So we worked through the rest of Wednesday.

Mooch got to the vet, vet said she looks great for 18 years old, give her the steroids and call later to see how she's doing.

We returned home with Mooch.  On the way home I told her it wasn't fair.  Wednesday was the day for her death sentence, not mine.  And so, to straighten out things, we were going to sacrifice her.  She ignored my threat.  And she's doing fine as I write this, begging for treats when I'm in the kitchen.

 Ok, I'm done for now. 

I had the biopsy on Friday.