it’s probably nothing part 2

I’m on a quest for nothing. Crossing fingers (never good at crossing toes though) wont alter pathology reports. Learning to accept my reality is hard to do. I never considered myself a control freak, but maybe I am.

great! I’m a fall risk

Who am I?  Can I make myself someone I am not? Can I project my will onto others in hopes of changing them? Probably not unless I become really good at hypnotizing people into submission.

It’s time to start rewatching Star Wars so I can take notes on successful Jedi mind tricks. You never know if it could help.

If I cannot control the weather, others behavior or the universe in general, is there anything I hold sway over?  I hate this helpless feeling. It goes completely against my nature as a strong-willed woman.

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operation excise boob-rocks

In case you were wondering, a routine mammogram recently found a cluster of micro-calcification in my right breast. My friend Mechelle lovingly referred to it as a boob rock. I like it and will refer to it as such from here on.

The first part of my surgical journey is over. Things went smoothly and thankfully on time. Any concern of becoming angry hungry disappeared as nerves turned my stomach into knots.

Autographed  on the collarbone by the radiologist, I was ready for show time. I saved flinching for when I was wheeled out of radiology with a giant wire sticking out of my chest.

signed and ready to go

OMG was it supposed to be so huge? I couldn’t imagine how far it went inside my breast as well. It wasn’t painful but it was nevertheless alarming to look upon.

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can’t change a thing

Pain meds and sleep became my new best friends. Life without either would have proved unbearable. I am sore, bruised and swollen. Luckily the wire was removed during surgery.

When I questioned the surgeon, he informed me the area removed was approximately the size of a walnut. That seems fairly substantial to me. Or am I being overly sensitive?

The worst part is surgery was performed Thursday and I won’t know the results until Monday or Tuesday. Part of me wants to freak out. That part needs more Vicodin.

I am strangely calm as I cannot affect the outcome by worrying. Maybe I am learning something after all. This whole spiritual journey has not been in vain.

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now what?

Other than sleep (lots of that) I sit here waiting to heal. The day after surgery, I did 3 loads of laundry and was chastised by the surgeon’s office for lifting anything.

What was I supposed to do? Wait for my teenage son to do it for me? OOF. That is one way to ruin my fine washables.

Laundry aside, I have been painting. Hopefully this is not too rigorous for convalescence. Mermaid paintings line the halls while I recover.

mermaid art a la mimi

I possess no great skills but find pleasure in creating art. It’s like mermaiding or dancing in that I feel connected to the universe with a brush in my hand.

This is also a time to catch up on blogging, comments, Facebook and everything else I do online. Daisy cuddles by my side as I tap endlessly (at least until I fall asleep).

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tomorrow, tomorrow…

Is it me or do you also picture a little girl with curly red hair singing about the sun coming out tomorrow. Random, but there it is.

Tomorrow I hopefully learn the pathology results (go team boob rock). Tomorrow I should successfully return to work and regain a sense of normalcy. Tomorrow the sun should definitely come out.