All is well.

The doctor assures me that the lumps are absolutely no problem at all. She has a number of theories involving muscle, tendon, scar tissue etc and has ordered an ultrasound, just to be safe.


Yes, I’m a certifiable hypochondriac. And, yes, this very good news is worth the hours of teasing that Mark is currently enjoying.

Thank you for your good, good vibes.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.


A good portion of the last three weeks I’ve spent fending off terror. Battling my brain away from fabricated scenes of brutally big, bad news.

Thanks to two marble-sized lymph nodes and a slew of spin-off concerns.

This morning was my three-month oncology appointment. My oncologist poked in all the scary places and pronounced All is well.

What relief.

Rising from the imaginary-dead every couple of months sure makes it easy to keep appreciating my beautiful, beautiful life.

Now to start trusting my body again. It’s got me this far, and done a fine job of it. It’ll fare even better when my worry-war is won.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It’s a beautiful life.

All is well

I’m just back from my first post-treatment mammogram and ultrasound.

And all is well. Woooohooooo!!

I learned a lot today:

  • That I have two staples in my right breast (!).
  • That my enlarged right breast may be a delayed reaction of radiation (?).
  • That the constant snapping of photos during the ultrasound is not necessarily a bad sign.
  • That no matter how unbelievably terrified I am during the tests, all the terror can be wiped away in an instant by a happy, happy result.

Happy, happy day!

Thank you to everyone whose good wishes got me through this week and to this happy, happy result.