The Not-So-Gory Details

Two days before my Dear one came to visit, I found a small lump in my breast. I called the doctor and made an appointment for this past Tuesday. Then I made the decision not to tell anyone. A lump can be so many things. In the end, I told my Dear One, the Muppet, and Peaches because I had to look them in the eye between finding the lump and the appointment. Looking them in the eye made it feel like lying, not just keeping my own counsel. I will not lie to them.

On Tuesday, the doctor feels the lump and sure enough, it's nothing. Whoo-hoo! Life continues for the next ten minutes. Until she gets to my lungs. Then the roller coaster drops again.

Now, she was great. The Lovely Cats and the Tom Cat apparently had at least one conversation about why a doctor would tell a patient something like this. Why she wouldn't just have said something innocuous. In her defense, she tried to play it that way. That doesn't work for me. I am a control freak. With an active imagination. A bad combo for innocuous. So why did she tell me? Because I asked. I said flat out "I don't want my imagination to go somewhere it doesn't need to go and I'm gonna feel like an idiot if I'm worried about cancer while you're looking for bronchitis. What are we looking for here?" And God love this woman; she told me the truth. She was "concerned" about cancer and wanted to "rule it out." You know what? This I can handle.

But this I couldn't keep quite so close to the vest. There are a handful of people ~ you know them ~ who would never have forgiven me. So I went straight to the Muppet. Once I got home, I started making phone calls. The only person I missed was Nemeria. (Parenthetically, how can one be friends with someone since the fourth freaking grade and not have her phone number? I don't know either. But I digress...) Things got a little emotional with the Muppet and the Lovely Cats but nothing extreme. None of us are panickers and, while we are all comfortable with emotions, we do not let them rule the day.

I went for the x-rays. Treated myself to a pedicure. Listened to Pearl Jam's Alive at full volume many times. And called for the results. Which you all know and brings you up to date. Today, I spent the day dressed to the nines, hanging with the Muppet, celebrating the fact that we don't have to fight this fight.

There you have it. Thank you for the outpouring of support. One of the things I had wondered about was if, Goddess forbid, this went another way on me, how I would possibly tell all of you. I even wrote the post so that I could write it while I was still calm. It has now been destroyed because all is well. I like the ending though so am going to use it here. The sentiment is as true coming from a healthy Pobble as it would have been coming from a sick one.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee. My love for you is absolutely free.