It's been quite awhile since I have even checked on my blog, and I feel sort of like a deadbeat parent. After my last post, we went on vacation, a vacation that had some wonderful moments and some beastly ones too, the toughest part of which was the drive to and from. On the upside, we learned that we are not a good road trip family. And I firmly believe that in this life it is as important to know your limitations as it is to know your strengths. So we shall fly or not go at all from now on to any place that is below Virginia.

When we arrived home, I began to get this sinking feeling about the whole breast lump thing. Like it had all gone away too quickly, too easily. And that womanly instinct thing was, unfortunately, right again. Last Wednesday, I received a phone call from my ob-gyn's office. They had apparently been leaving me messages and trying to reach me for a week. (Don't ask me what the hell is wrong with me, but I had not even checked my voice mail in the five days between the time we arrived home and the phone call from the doctor.) The nurse explained to me that because the radiologist had not been able to firmly conclude that the mass was indeed nothing more than a cyst, I would have to follow up with a breast surgeon. This is just their office policy.

I was slightly floored, while not surprised at all, which makes no sense. But that's the only way I can describe it.

So I spent the remainder of the morning on the phone with my insurance company and various doctor's offices trying to make an appointment. I was able to schedule things for this Monday, and my champion of a husband will be coming with me. That fact, in and of itself, is such a solace-maker. To know that I won't be alone sends a great deal of my fear heading for the hills.

But...(there's always one of these)

While we have repeatedly told each other that we know I'm not sick and there's nothing wrong, we are both scared. We're prepared that I will have to undergo a biopsy. That much only makes sense. Past that, there will be only good news, and then we'll make fabulous plans to celebrate the rest of our lives that is waiting for us. The one fact that I am really holding onto for confidence and calm is my gall bladder surgery...I had pre-op blood work done at that time, which was all normal, and my surgeon reported to Pete post-op that while my gall bladder was shot, the rest of me (internally speaking) was healthy as a horse.

If this "thing" is indeed "something," my hope that it would have been "something" back in October when they ran all these tests, and a red flag would have at least gone up in my blood work. This is my hope, be it irrational or otherwise, and I'm hanging on to it for dear life.