A Road Bump

I knew when my internist left a message to call her home phone number that the news wasn't going to be good. Did I cry? A little. Am I still in shock 3 days later? Maybe.

A routine mammogram isn't supposed to lead to this. It's just supposed to be that: routine. Boob-squishing and annoying, but routine. Maybe some extra films are called for but CANCER? Well apparently yes. I am that one in however many. That 20% of biopsied lumps that aren't benign. As much as it might suck, this is the road I'm traveling. More than one friend has said, however, that it's just a road bump in my life's journey. Something to get over. And through. So here I am. Staring down the road but only as far as the next appointment. Knowing it's one hellava bump.

I've met my cancer-fighting team of uber docs, have surgery scheduled for next week, have friends and family clamoring to help. The kids have been talked to and work has been apprised of both my desire to work through this, and the impossibility of predicting what my capabilities will be. I've worn myself out trying to keep everyone in the know. I don't like talking about it so much. Maybe I am still in shock but right now I just want to live my normal life. I bought a polka-dotted binder and I'm going to hole-punch all my medical papers and put them in there. I'm going to attack this road bump with, at the very least, brightly colored polka-dots and some semblance of organization. Something we ought to bring to everything we do in life.