Big Drama

Well, it looks like my plan to live forever just might not work out. A routine mammogram turned up some minuscule calcium deposits. This led to a real fun morning with an alien probe machine on Thursday and a call from the doctor at 8 a.m. Monday morning to say there were some early signs of cancer and I needed surgery. I wrote stuff down and made appointments and tried to work from home in a kind of fog for the rest of the day.

Since the contractor and his minions were prancing around with power tools and deconstructing my upstairs from 8:30 a.m. on, I didn't have time to think until four in the afternoon. All of a sudden the house was empty, things got quiet, and I could sit in my purple suede rocking chair next to the fountain and think.

Much to my surprise, I felt bad. Really bad. Crying bad, and I don't cry except for once every 6 years or so. My mind didn't feel bad but apparently my body did, so I just sat in the purple suede rocker and looked at the back yard while I blubbered and rocked for a while. It was a gorgeous spring late afternoon and I could see a riot of forget-me-nots, tulips, camellias, and other growing stuff, and all I could think of was I would really miss living if I had to give it up. Besides, I'm just getting good at it.

Having a good cry cleared my mind and I am expecting the best possible outcome. Thanks to everyone who has expressed such kind and loving sentiments. I love you back.