Admittedly, I’ve made the past couple of days harder on myself than I needed to be.

The Wednesday routine mammogram turned up something.  This something was so something that they called me back on Thursday for additional pictures.

Neither I nor my doctors are sure what it is yet, but I have two theories.

A:  It’s nothing.
My mom had a lot of nothings.  My little sister had a nothing about a year ago.   This could be along the same lines and absolutely nothing.

B:  It’s something.
My aunt died to breast cancer right my age some thirty years ago.
She didn’t smoke.  She didn’t drink.   It just happened.

So, I go in for additional testing on Tuesday.

I got to say that I haven’t been encouraged by the way the nurse practitioner and tech spoke to me.   They didn’t say cancer, but they seemed really nervous.  I’m guessing that they can’t say one way or the other until it’s confirmed.   But, their nervousness started to rub off on me while I was in there.

That Thursday after I was called back in, I was tired.   I could feel the super glue that holds my bones together becoming weak.  My mind was in a six-hour stun and I couldn’t bear anyone to touch me.  I just wanted to take a sleeping pill and knock myself right out.

But, I didn’t.
I graded papers.   Answered student emails.  Jason called and yacked at me for about an hour.  I think I attempted to participate in the discussion, but I really didn’t have it in me.  That was okay.   My spiral communicator was telling me about his day in longhand.  That’s useful when I don’t want to talk.

Yesterday, I really put myself through the paces.
Went to the gym and did four hours of hard cardio.   Then, I walked around downtown for another three.  Outside of a turkey sandwich for breakfast, I ate a protein bar and had an energy drink.    That stuff tastes a lot better than what I remember it.

And, here I am.  s
Saturday.    Going out with my sisters.
We’re going back to gym, getting our nails done, and having lunch at the newly opened McAlister’s.   Never been there before, but I like to go to new places.   The eating disorder has already reared it’s head and I’ve plotted what I will order that won’t break this imaginary calorie bank I have.

It just kind of sucks that I can’t chicken out and have the salad since there was a lettuce recall.

In a moment of weakness, I texted my House sister and let her know what was going on although I knew how she was going to answer.

“I’m sorry.”
“You’re in my prayers.”

I’m okay with someone trying to give me a hand up with the Big Guy, if there is a Big Guy.  I probably need a lot of help in that area.

I just don’t understand why people reactively say “I’m sorry.”   There’s nothing to be sorry about.   She didn’t do anything.   I didn’t do anything.   It just happens.   I got to roll with the punches, which I think I’ve done fairly well with so far.

There’s no sorry about it.
I adore my House sister.  She has so many admirable qualities and is so courageous and smart, even if she’ll never admit it.

But there’s no reason to be sorry about this cancer or anything that’s out of our control.

I still feel tired, but at least it’s not the soul-draining tired as I went through on Thursday.  I guess after being diagnosed with cancer once, the shock value isn’t as much.  Besides, I don’t think this feels like cancer.

The last time did.  For some reason, I knew while I was going through the tests.   I knew 100% what was growing inside me.   I’m not getting the same feeling this time.   All of this could just be fluff.

Either way, I’m bombing Florida this Friday.
Okay, okay, okay.   I — do not — have a bomb.   I don’t know how to make one or even where to get one.    It’s an expression.
This political climate drives me crazier than the cold.

If I don’t know or even if I know, I am going to Florida and attempt to thaw out (while feeling completely guilty for leaving my family behind… )  But, that’s another thing.

Okay then.
I better get ready to go.

Happy December people.