It's FAT

Phew! It IS just fat. Fat necrosis to be more specific. I'm feeling so incredibly relieved.

Yesterday seemed to drag on. No matter how I tried to distract myself, my thoughts kept drifting back to the what-ifs. I took Charlotte and a friend of hers to the park. I sat on the bench, watching the girls play. I looked over at a mom on the swings. The back of her shirt read "Keep Calm and Trust God." I got the message. But the day continued to drag. Why hadn't she called? Was she waiting for more info, delaying giving me the bad news until she had finished with patients for the day and had more time to talk and answer questions?  And then the phone rang. Dr. Weinberg's voice was cheerful, bubbling through the phone line with GOOD news. "Relax and enjoy your vacation," she said. "It's just fat, just like we thought." Phew. We hung up and I cried some more. Actually I fell to my knees and cried and thanked God.

Phew.

Another lump

As I write this, it's 11:05 on Friday, March 13th. I'm not much for superstition, but I can't help but notice some similarities between today and a fateful day about 16 months ago. It was Nov 12th when Dr. Weinberg first biopsied that nasty lump, and the 13th when she called to tell me it was cancer. Once again, on the 12th of a month (March, in this case) I sat in her office for a biopsy. And once again, on the 13th, I sit here anxiously awaiting her voice on the phone. Is it cancer?

Just days ago, I found another lump. It's different than last time, higher up, much smaller. Immediately, I thought "it's just fat lumps." The timing is right, about 3 months out from my reconstruction, for the fat grafting on my left side to start settling in. Fat is unpredictable, and it is likely that some of the fat has clumped together leaving a lump I can feel just beneath skin. Nevertheless, finding a lump after the treatment I've been through for the last year is scary. Those odds are always lurking just beyond my consciousness, nagging at me. It's something I'm trying to move beyond.

I left a message for the doctor the next morning, and within 15 minutes, the receptionist was on the phone setting up an appointment for Thursday, the 12th. I didn't notice the similarity in the date until I was already at the appointment. Superstitious or not, why tempt fate?! Oh well, that's neither here nor there. [the cliche queen in me must come out when I am most stressed, lol!]

Doug came with me to the appointment yesterday. Right away, Dr. Weinberg put us at ease. It was likely fat from the grafting, it felt smooth like fat lumps do. Just to be safe, she wanted an ultrasound. Fat shows up bright white on an ultrasound. It would be easy to see if there was reason to worry. We were all for it. We're preparing for a vacation, ready to leave the stress behind. The ultrasound tech, Dana, was great, showing me all the white spots showing up on the screen and talking me through the spot where I felt tender. She took measurements, and called Dr. Weinberg in to examine the screen. Most of what they saw was definitely fat, connected, bright white and deep. But there was an area that wasn't quite as white as the rest, right near the skin, where I'd felt the lump. Dr. Weinberg suggested I come back in a few weeks as a follow up, but then she hesitated. "We could always just biopsy it right now so we'll know." Given my history, my odds, and how sneaky that last lump was, I opted for the biopsy.

This biopsy was different, guided by the ultrasound, I could see the needle for the lidocaine. I could see the corer (is that even what it's called?) removing samples as it was happening. Doug looked on, ever my rock. This time, the clicks weren't quite as loud, and there was some suction involved. I tried not to watch.  Dr. Weinberg said the samples looked like fat. Last time, she didn't say anything at all. I'm taking that as a good sign. I can't have cancer again already!

And now, I'm sitting here, pacing, trying to keep busy, and waiting to hear her voice on the phone. Waiting to hear it's just fat. I wasn't going to share this until I knew the results, but then I did promise myself I would use this blog to be brutally honest about what this cancer experience is like. It seems these scares are part of that journey. An ongoing tension and source of worry.  I don't think I've ever prayed so hard for fat in all my life.

Whatever the results, I will share with all of you soon. Good or bad, I need some time to process these emotions, so please don't worry too much. Lift this up in prayer, please, and know I am always so grateful for your support through every curve in the road.

Right Now Counts

I don't know about you, but I often (before, during and after cancer) get wrapped up in what the future holds. I am a very driven person. I set goals and I work hard, heck - I push hard, to achieve them. As much as accountability is part of my core personality, so is this drive to achieve my goals. I'm a dreamer, yes, but I am a dreamer that will see her dreams realized.

Being driven is good in many ways. I tend to get a lot done. I don't give up easily. I'm great at visualizing the big picture and the details; seeing how things are interconnected in life. I pay attention to (most) details, and learn from mistakes. 

This drive is also damaging, because I can easily miss one simple fact; Right Now Counts. It is so easy to put on the blinders and miss the moments. You know, the really great moments of everyday. They happen all the time. So often, that I take them for granted sometimes, or just miss them entirely because I'm too focused on everything that needs to get done, everything that needs to change, everything that CAN be better. 

The things I do may seem excessive to most. Right now, I'm working hard to balance (and excel at) being a great wife and mother, daughter, sister, and friend,4 jobs (online teaching for 2 colleges, tutoring in a writing center, and substitute teaching grades K-12), to keep up with our active lifestyles, and make major dietary lifestyle changes to improve my health, and find time for exercise (because despite constantly being on the move, I RARELY hit 10,000 steps a day; what gives?!). If you know me well, you know that I am pretty good at balancing on this trapeze, that what doesn't break me becomes a learning experience, making me stronger or better in some way. But there are days the safety net beneath me calls me from the chaos. We all fall from time to time. I'm beginning to see that in the falling is a moment of quiet where I remember that right now counts, and I want to hang out in the safety net beneath the "get 'er done" mentality for just a bit longer. There, the moments of right now fill my cup. There is where each embrace, each kiss, each laugh, each tear, each smile, each cheer holds us tightly together and reminds us how important each moment is. Right there, in that quiet space beneath the clanging of everyday life, is where our memories lead us to this moment, and these moments, together, create the memories of our future, reminding us that right now counts.

I'm going to try hard to remember this, to pay more attention to now, to let the "busy" noise of everyday life fade out so I can remain more mindful of the moments that really matter in the end. I hope you will too.