Insurance Says No...

...to my breast MRI. 

Breast Cancer as Entertainment?

From another blog:

"Reality show seeks brides with breast cancer stories"

8:01 am May 22, 2012, by Jennifer Brett

A major cable network is casting for a new reality show and seeking brides with a breast cancer story. Casting folks are looking for brides who are fighting breast cancer themselves or who are survivors, or who have a close friend or family member who has been affected by breast cancer. They further stipulate that they’re looking for ladies “looking for a wedding dress in June.” Planning a wedding + dealing with breast cancer = entertainment, apparently.

The network and show aren’t being disclosed. That’s right, a reality show that plans to aim cameras at cancer patients seeks privacy for itself. Absorb that dichotomous message for a moment. But, that’s show biz.

If you’re interested email brandy@northsouth.tv and include your name, contact information, photo of yourself and a few words about your experience with breast cancer.

- Jennifer Brett/The Buzz/jbrett@ajc.com

Anniversary Weekend

One of the unexpected perks to having our "Marriage Day" anniversary on a holiday weekend each year is that we'll always get three days to celebrate together.  And charcoal will be on sale.  ;)

Of course, we didn't plan our marriage around a holiday.  It just happened to coincide with our panicked run to the courthouse.  But it sure is nice to have an extra day to be together and do relaxing and summery things.

E--always one to remember the little things--bought (and planted!) a limelight hydrangea for the front of the house.  This bush produces the big flowers I had planned to use in my bridal bouquet and in our table arrangements for the reception.  I'm excited to see it bloom this fall, though I imagine I'll feel a bit melancholy, too.

Other anniversary weekend events included celebratory phone calls and notes from family and friends, a fancy happy hour date on Friday, planting the rest of our veggies/herbs and installing a new rain barrel on Saturday, power-washing the front porch on Sunday, and cleaning out the garage today.  Nothing says romance like arguing over where to store the Christmas lights.

Happy holiday weekend, everyone, and happy anniversary, E!

It's Probably Nothing, But...

Remember that "thing" I thought I had found in my breast?  That "thing" I had Dr. W come in on her day off to check out?  I had my three month appointment with her yesterday and she hesitated over that area again.  She rolled it back and forth between her hands and tried to pinch it: "does this hurt?"  "No," I lied.  In my state of increased anxiety I started rambling about how that was the place I was nervous about back in January.  She kept pressing on it.  "It's not a distinct lump, but it's something, some sort of ridge," she said.  Then she explained that though it's "probably nothing," I don't have the luxury of making assumptions.  "I'd sleep better if you had an MRI," she suggested.  Me too.  Next Thursday, into the clanking machine of claustrophobia I go.

The Smells of Spring

The smell of our house changes with the seasons.  When the heat and humidity come around each spring, all the maple floors and plaster walls swell and the rooms take on a distinct "woody" perfume.  It's not a bad thing or a good thing.  It just smells different around here every May. 

Where this becomes significant to me is when this smell is so strongly tied to cancer.  I was diagnosed around the time that the house expanded with seasonal moisture.  So this smell, though neutral to most, is the very clear odor of illness to me.  It's not so disturbing for me to want to put pretty candles or plug-ins in each room.  But it's enough to wake up each morning and think, yeah, there's that smell, the smell of what happened to me in this house.  At least it doesn't last long.  It's usually only a few days before I'm desensitized.  But these last two springs definitely caught me off guard on the first humid days.

What I'm Doing Today

E and I were at the local organic heirloom plant and herb sale before it opened.  There we bought some tomato plants (to supplement the ones I braggingly started from seed) and a boatload of herbs for the elevated planter outside my kitchen window.  From the plant sale we went to one of my favorite greasy spoons for french toast and dark diner-style coffee, and then continued our usual Saturday morning errands.  Once home I finished grading for the semester while E took a nap.  And it's only mid-day.

Our adventures on this Saturday aren't very captivating.  It's more about what we're not doing that is important.  Today, I'm not driving two hours with news so dreadful I can hardly breathe to steer the car.  I'm not walking in the door to an excited E who thinks I came back from campus early to surprise him.  I'm not telling him I have cancer.  I'm not calling our families to share my fear I'll be dead in six months.  I'm not making end of life plans and I'm not thinking about rushing to elope.

Today, my friends, I am sitting at the computer with a cat in my lap, the dog at my feet, curly brown  hair on my head and the joy of NED.  We're celebrating by doing normal things, and quietly remembering the paralyzing experience of diagnosis.

That Point In The Semester

Commute, teach, grade, write, eat, sleep.

Repeat.

See you after final grades are posted.