I had a breast ultrasound on Friday. (For more info on my dense fibrous breasts and how I feel about mammograms click here.) I’ll cut to the chase and say I’m fine. The cyst has shrunken. Cancer doesn’t usually get smaller. I didn’t chat with the radiologist with my boobs showing this time, so it scored lower on the excitement scale. However, approaching this appointment I had imagined every possible horror scenario and was ready to spend the day in surgery. People get diagnosed with cancer every day and my heart goes out to all of them.
Not that there’s a convenient time for a cancer diagnosis, but now would be really bad. I don’t know how I would handle my mother’s cancer and my own. It would be a like material for a one-woman show I would never want to put up.
Just when you think you have a handle on things (i.e., not sleeping alone), life gets a little harder. Sorry to get all heavy and dark. I just needed to get it out.