Well it’s Monday and I’m awake, un-showered and flipping through an online photo gallery of the MTV movie awards. When nerve racking events are set in my life, my general response is to consume meaningless brain-candy entertainment and fill my time.
So today I’m filling time.
Yesterday my parents were finally told about the lump. That was fine. My mom was concerned, saying she wished I told her earlier. Fair enough, but this isn’t an simple reveal. It’s not easy to change a conversation about snagging gar on the Ottawa River with ‘hey Mom and Dad, there’s a lump in my boob’.
There’s a lump in my boob and it’s been biopsied, and I’ve got a touch of discharge too that worries me. So was there lovely weather on the river?
Anyhow, they’re now in the know, and soon I’ll be too. It’s 9.34 am, my appointment is at 2.10pm. Once I shower, dress, make lunch, wrap a present, go to the hardware store and pop into the post office, time will have flown. Then it’s back to the hospital and a new waiting room this time. The consultation waiting room.
It’s funny because at this same clinic they also do screening for early pregnancy. Ultrasound for tiny babies. Tiny babies instead of tiny bumps. I’d prefer waiting for those kind of results.
Okay – well, odds are on my side. That doesn’t mean a damn thing of course, because either I don’t have cancer, or I do. No one in my family history has ever had it. No woman. My family is more prone to Alzheimer’s, at least for the men. The ladies seems to go strong for quite a while.
And so will I. One way or another.