First, You Cry

Friday - I normally would not start another post with Coconut Curry Chicken and Beef Stuffed Baby Bell Peppers hanging out there like laundry on the line, but I cannot help but make a side trip at this point in my week.  I am scared, so scared that my legs are weak.  Fortunately I am the passenger, as Rob is driving us to Winter Park to discuss the results of all those tests and procedures that were done to the girls. In discussing my long list of fears with professionals who are trained to do so, I have assured them that I am not afraid of breast cancer, that whatever has to be done will be done, and more of that sort of crap.  There's no percentage in lying to your therapist or your psychiatrist, folks.  I am certain I didn't fool either one of them, and I surely did not fool myself.

I have been through this scenario with the same surgeon, back in 2006, and I can still see myself, with Rob, sitting in one of her examination rooms, hearing the good news that everything was benign. What a marvelous word, benign. But this is 2015, and in order to deal with the mind-numbing anxiety from weeks and months of invasive procedures, I have forced myself to believe that this time it would be déjà vu all over again and everything would be benign.  Who am I fooling? I know no such thing.

Only now I do.  First, you cry - even when it is good news.  Then you hug your husband and go to Tibby's for lunch.  Thank you, God.