My follow up was swift--I was in and out, hardly remember sitting down. Dr. Thomas told me the thing I think we knew all along: it is a fibroadenoma, which is a benign tumor. A two month quiet uncertainty is resolved, and I can learn to live with what is apparently sometimes referred to as a "breast mouse." (Seems very fitting, actually.) Dr. Thomas said the surgery was up to me--either way, it was my choice, and because it won't turn into cancer, it shouldn't grow, it won't effect breastfeeding when I have children, it isn't necessary. My immediate reaction was that I'd miss it.
I was trying to explain this to my mother yesterday--the lump is symbolic of this time in my life. I have been facing many difficulties (beyond the lump, beyond the musical, beyond Kelly's wedding, beyond the budget cuts), and I have been trying to convince myself that I will get through all of it, and I'll do it with grace.
I guess getting rid of the lump would be like cutting out that strength. It's my tattoo, my permanent reminder that I do believe in fate, I do believe things happen for a reason, and I believe so much of my own life is beautiful and lucky.
I've been reading this blog and this blog recently (and when I read blogs, I tend to go back to the beginning and devour, which makes me feel like I've both graced and lost a day) and both of these gifted women (one of whom I know and one of whom I do not) have a perfect attention to the simplicities of life, the small wonders, treasured accoutrements.
Makes me think of looking closely at my own details: the tang of local apple cranberry juice, reminding me of that late summer when Evonne and Jeff and Eve came to W, and we hiked up the bluff (Jeff even climbing the Sugar Loaf, and Evonne, pregnant, making her own way up the rock) and went for a hayride, coming back with grocery sacks full of apples, full and ripe and dropping from the trees. The sigh of our golden retriever at my feet, always keeping company, the muted whimper of our mutt, demanding attention, the snap of his jaw, which prompts K to call him a "venomous hippo" (and how well that fits!).
The sun has come out, the air is still crisp. Only a week ago, we flung open the juttering window frame and slid the twin window fan in, wondering where to store the down comforter while summer rolls in. Our tulips are muscling their way up through dead October leaves and got a little rubbery at our return to winter.
Snow, even two nights ago:
Reminds me of these projects as well: Studio Friday and Self Portrait Tuesday and Illustration Friday.
I think I'll run an errand: I haven't done this in forever, but perhaps I'll pick up a sketchpad. (I can never do just one thing... return to writing... begin reading deeper... no, I must engorge myself with All Things Related and leave myself without time for any of it in the end. One true thing: I generally cycle back and return to the same things. It's all about time and freedom and creative expression--revealing the self through words and images.)