Room for Happy
Happiness is keeping my feet off the ground today.
I received results from my MRI at the U of M Hospital. Normal. "Normal", they said.
No areas to check with biopsy, only a followup in six months.
After my appointment for a mammogram two weeks ago I was not exactly confident. I went in for a mammogram. Sat in the waiting room. Returned for a more confining mammorgram. Sat in the waiting room. Went to another room for an ultrasound with a female doctor.
After of about 10 minutes of this doctor pushing on my right breast she asked another doctor to come in and check my right breast with the ultrasound. (with a more aggressive pushing and prodding) They said there was some question on the right breast and I told them I already had an MRI schedule for the next week.
The doctor said it was very likely they would find something on the MRI.
I said, "What do you mean by likely?"
She said, "The MRI sees everything to such a small degree. But, if they do find something there is an 85% chance it will not be malignant."
Ratios, statistics, chances... this is what constitutes "Cancer-Talk".
A part of me feels for the people I know suffering through these channels of medical help when they do have a cancer diagnosis. The roller-coast rides. Part of the ride powered by talking to the medical people. Another part ( the tricky part) powered by the self-talk we have to give ourselves.
"No, I'm not going to worry about it until I get the results."
"If it is cancer, I know what I'll do."
"I'll beat this beast, it won't get me!"
Cancer wrapping itself around my husband's heart and killing him.
Cancer killing my step-son, Harry Jr., less than a year before his father.
Cancer defeating my sister, Karen, and taking her life.
My cousin, Mark Howdyshell, lost his life from Cancer.
My cousin, Mark Ahlich, fighting the pain and living with the fear of cancer.
My cousin, Jim Ryerse, recovering and taking a hard look at the cancer's ugly face.
My cousin, Cro-Jo's husband, holding out against cancer.
My sister, Mary, a survivor of breast cancer fifteen years ago.
A few of my family members having skin cancer and having it removed. Worrying about the effects of the sun we all worship.
I'm relieved. But, I'm very aware life is fragile. Happiness isn't something we can search for or receive. It is something we make. I'm letting this good news make me happy today.
I may get hit by a meteorite tomorrow. But, today I live and will continue to make life meaningful. No guarantees but leaving plenty of room for happy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRMOMjCoR58
I received results from my MRI at the U of M Hospital. Normal. "Normal", they said.
No areas to check with biopsy, only a followup in six months.
After my appointment for a mammogram two weeks ago I was not exactly confident. I went in for a mammogram. Sat in the waiting room. Returned for a more confining mammorgram. Sat in the waiting room. Went to another room for an ultrasound with a female doctor.
After of about 10 minutes of this doctor pushing on my right breast she asked another doctor to come in and check my right breast with the ultrasound. (with a more aggressive pushing and prodding) They said there was some question on the right breast and I told them I already had an MRI schedule for the next week.
The doctor said it was very likely they would find something on the MRI.
I said, "What do you mean by likely?"
She said, "The MRI sees everything to such a small degree. But, if they do find something there is an 85% chance it will not be malignant."
Ratios, statistics, chances... this is what constitutes "Cancer-Talk".
A part of me feels for the people I know suffering through these channels of medical help when they do have a cancer diagnosis. The roller-coast rides. Part of the ride powered by talking to the medical people. Another part ( the tricky part) powered by the self-talk we have to give ourselves.
"No, I'm not going to worry about it until I get the results."
"If it is cancer, I know what I'll do."
"I'll beat this beast, it won't get me!"
Cancer wrapping itself around my husband's heart and killing him.
Cancer killing my step-son, Harry Jr., less than a year before his father.
Cancer defeating my sister, Karen, and taking her life.
My cousin, Mark Howdyshell, lost his life from Cancer.
My cousin, Mark Ahlich, fighting the pain and living with the fear of cancer.
My cousin, Jim Ryerse, recovering and taking a hard look at the cancer's ugly face.
My cousin, Cro-Jo's husband, holding out against cancer.
My sister, Mary, a survivor of breast cancer fifteen years ago.
A few of my family members having skin cancer and having it removed. Worrying about the effects of the sun we all worship.
I'm relieved. But, I'm very aware life is fragile. Happiness isn't something we can search for or receive. It is something we make. I'm letting this good news make me happy today.
I may get hit by a meteorite tomorrow. But, today I live and will continue to make life meaningful. No guarantees but leaving plenty of room for happy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRMOMjCoR58
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