You Are Basil

You are quite popular and loved by post people. You have a mild temperament, but your style is definitely distinctive. You are sweet, attractive, and you often smell good.

What Spice Are You?

the mental dental waiting room

I missed a day of work today.

The reason I missed a day of work is that last night, as I talked on the phone to my darling Sumati, I felt a lump over my right collarbone. Lymph node, I think, and since that's how I detected the breast cancer in the first place, I thought, yeah, better get that one checked out.

Now, if you are not a cancer survivor, you may not quite know what this is like. Greg and I joke about it, he says, "yeah, I had cancer this morning, when I shaved. I cut myself, and when it wouldn't stop bleeding, I think, Oh my god, it's cancer coming back, and I'll have to have....." and your brain goes into overdrive imagining not just the next step, but the next 97 steps.

But the truth is, I'm not in a panic. I'm not in a snit. This time it's much more like being in the waiting room at the dentist's office.

I know it could be bad news. But it's a weird combination of slightly wired and, truthfully, bored. I know, I know, possible cancer recurrence, supraclavicular lymph node, more chemo, more radiation, blah blah blah, whatever. Yawn.

Honestly. I have a lot of fun planned for this weekend, and I am NOT going to miss any of it, or not enjoy any of it, because my brain has decided to kill me. Truth is, if I have a recurrence of the cancer, we'll deal with it. And I refuse, refuse, refuse to waste the next week fantasizing about what will happen if it's bad news.

Did you hear me, Powers That Be? I'm just going to live my life, and enjoy this celebration that's happening this weekend, and frankly, it's about Caroline, it's not about me, so let me just let it be about her. If worries come up, I'm going to pet them, tell them how cute and small they are, and send them on their merry way.

For you information junkies, I seem to have a supraclavicular lymph node that suddenly got large - around 2 centimeters. the oncologists' office sent me in for a fine needle biopsy, but that won't happen for a week - the large and grunchy gears of the medical establishment do not grind at a rapid rate, so now I'm in the Mental Dental Office for a week. So be it.

But in the mean time, tomorrow I'm going rafting, and Sunday is a party, and I think I'll just pass on the whole turning my brains to mush with worries for the time being.

28 As a 1930s wife, I am Poor Take the test!