Thursday at 5:45PM

I will have to get better at choosing catchy titles.  All these professional bloggers have funny titles and witty quips throughout their blogs.  Not sure I'll rise to those heights.  I'm more of a "just the facts, ma'am" kind of person.  :-)  And BTW, don't get annoyed if you call me, and I don't answer or call right back.  Those of you who know me well, know I'm terrible at talking on the phone.  I GREATLY appreciate all of checking on me, and I will talk to you soon.

So...I had another day of poking and prodding.  Two needle core biopsies and a blood test this morning and an MRI this afternoon.  Oddly enough, I almost fell asleep in the MRI machine.  Very weird experience.  They give you earplugs, then wedge your head in between a bunch of padding so you don't move it.  I imagine it's loud, but I didn't notice with all the ear covering.  Sounded like dull thumps, clicks and rumbles.  I did keep my eyes closed the whole time.  I don't think I'm claustrophobic, but today wasn't the day I wanted to find out.

When I entered the MRI/CT section, the first thing the nurse asked me how old I was.  Fourty, of course. She then proceeded to tell me how she was actually an oncology nurse, but was "taking a break" down in the imaging lab.  She asked if I had a family history of breast cancer, etc, etc, and then told me most breast cancer patients were usually older.  Blah, blah, blah...  No family history of cancer, too young to get cancer, whatever...  I have it.  She was actually very nice and offered me any resources she knew of and was very supportive.  The encounter is just indicative of people's reaction.  Surprised, shocked, even sad, but always willing to do whatever you need.  So many friends and colleagues have offered to do anything for me, from cleaning my house and watching Charlotte to walking the giant Bea Dog.  My husband and family are the best!

I also received some disappointing news today.  The cancer is in my left breast and in two lymph nodes, but, while the CT scans showed no cancer in other parts of my body, they did show that many lymph nodes were affected under my arm.  That means I'm definitely Stage 3.  It doesn't mean any change in treatment or surgery.  Just means I'm worse.  Each bit of bad news makes me kick myself for not finding the lump earlier.  Ladies, do your breast exams regularly!  Yes, our boobs feel lumpy, but believe me, you'll feel any abnormal lumps.  And don't put off those mammograms.  If your docs will let you get them at 35, start then.  It's not fun, but believe me, the alternative sucks.

Even though I'm disappointed, I'm still not going glass half empty.  When I was growing up, my dad would "comfort" me by saying, "Just put one foot in front of the other and you'll get through it."  I absolutely hated it when he said that!  You know how it is...he doesn't understand me...yadda yadda yadda.  But now I think that simple sentence is freakin' genius!  That man went through the hell of WWII as a frogman and a sharp shooter, almost died twice, lived with the resulting health problems, married twice, divorced once, raised my brother alone, put himself through accounting and law school while working full time, buried my mom, and he got through it by putting one foot in front of the other.  While I'm glad he's not here to see me battle this, I'm sorry I didn't realize the genius of his approach to life until now.  Se la vie...

I'm babbling on.  That's what you get when I'm achy and tired.  I'll stop now.  Thanks for reading!!

Quote of the moment: Put one foot in front of the other, and you can get through anything. 
I think I'll amend that statement to: Wear great shoes, and put one foot in front of the other.  Then, you can get through anything.  ;-)