What Do You Really Leave Behind?

SOTD: "America's Sweetheart" by Elle King

https://youtu.be/RGXaLdVMwRU

"What do you want from me? I'm not america's sweetheart...but you love me anyway". 

Some people measure life by success. That's a pretty broad spectrum. If you ask five people to define success, you'll likely get five different definitions. For me, the measure of a persons life can't be simplified in this way. I believe accomplishments are of some value, while you are alive, but it's what you leave behind that truly defines your existence. 

I've spent quite some time thinking about my own life lately and I don't want to be defined by what I accomplish or the positions I hold. And honestly, I've done some pretty amazing things in the last 35 years, in large part because of the jobs I've had and positions I held. But if it all were to end tomorrow, I wouldn't want to be remembered for producing almost compelling television or being relentless in my efforts to help fix a broken Medicaid system. 

I would want my legacy to be one of generosity and kindness. 

Between my niece, two nephews and two god daughters - not to mention countless others I love dearly - the best way I know to teach these values is by showing them with my own actions. 

It started with Gabby (the oldest goddaughter). I remember when she was just starting to walk and get into EVERYTHING and not ever having kids of my own, it could be frustrating at times. But I was acutely aware that she was not just learning how to get around, but also how to show her emotions. I would smile, and she would smile back. Perhaps I was too gentle with her, but I refused to raise my voice or ever spank her for doing something wrong. By the time Callista (the younger goddaughter) was that age, they were both aware of the face I would make if they did something I didn't approve of - and for me, this was heartbreaking. Without saying a word, with a single glare, Gabby would begin to cry because she knew she had disappointed me. It didn't happen often. But when it did, I had to quickly leave the room because if her heart was broken, you could bet mine was too. 

A few years later, my brother's first son, Kaden, was born premature. Lucky for me I lived just a few miles away from the Children's hospital he stayed at for the first month of his little life and would often go sit with him on my lunch hour and weekends. I remember spending one of my birthdays in the NICU because I could finally hold him. I would sit for hours and rock him in one of the wooden chairs. After he was released, I didn't get to see him nearly as often, because I was always too busy working to make the 45 minute drive from Knoxville to Crossville and if I had a day off, all I wanted to do was sleep. It would be a few years later, when I moved back home, before we had a bond like we did when he was born. 

By this time, my brother had also given me a niece, Jorja, and a second nephew, Myles. That's a lot for anyone, but let's just say, maybe populating the planet shouldn't have been his biggest priority. Although, now, I wouldn't have it any other way!

Why did I feel the need to share all of this? It's simple. I'm more concerned with what these tiny humans think about me than anyone who actually reads this blog. I want the way I live to match the lectures I give about being kind and generous. If my life isn't showing them the right moral compass, I have no business taking up space on the internet complaining about anything. Kids can cut through the BS - I'm not sure when, but adults tend to lose this somewhere along the way. I want to be the fun Aunt. Crazy Aunt Ceshia. But I never want them to look at me and say my life doesn't reflect anything less than kindness to all people or generosity when I can give.

None of us know how many days we will get on this earth. We will all have days of deep sorrow and others of emense Joy. That is no reason not to get up every morning and live life as if you didn't have the opportunity to right those you've wronged. The goal is to live in such a way that there are no wrongs that need to be right. But in the off chance you have a few of those out there, I encourage you to do whatever is necessary to fix it as soon as possible. Over use 'I Love You' and don't leave anything for another day, because we are not promised more days. We have right now. That's it.

My life will one day end. That's a fact that can be checked from any number of sources, not the least of which is Disney's 'The Lion King'. When people memorialize my life, the only thing I expect is that they will be smiling from the shared stories of good times we've shared and not worrying about the jobs I didn't get or people who walked away.

I'm alive right now and I'm not losing sleep over them. So, if you need my permission, here it is.

I'm not sure why this was the message I wanted to share today, but the next time you hear Elle King singing her anthem, think of me...and love me anyway. 

Four Years Later...

SOTD: "Bottled Up" - Tori Kelly

https://youtu.be/f-tC2jqKtuE

This is the story of a girl broken-hearted. 

Messed up her head - she's so guarded. 

Don't get me started. 

It's 'cause of you that I've got this thick skin. 

I don't wanna let nobody in, 

All the pain just stayed in place, 

And I kept it tucked away

for so long, so long, so long

But now, I just wanna yell, 

I just wanna throw it all in your face. 

It's silly that I've always felt this way, 

you'd never know. 

I just wanna yell. 

You know that I can only take so much and 

I don't wanna keep it bottled up anymore, anymore.

I was there hanging on by a string, 

Trying to give you my everything. 

That's what they all sing. 

You don't know what you put me through,

Trying so hard to prove to you 

that I've got something to say

But I kept it all tucked away 

for so long, so long, so long

I just wanna yell. 

I just wanna through it all in your face. 

It's silly that I've always felt this way. 

But you'd never know. 

I just wanna yell. 

You know that I can only take so much and 

I don't wanna keep it bottled up anymore, anymore.

I never talked about the way I really felt. 

You put my heart through hell. 

Thought you knew me so well. 

But, ha, just waiting for me to fail - 

But I'm doing the opposite and I can't wait to tell the whole world. 

Yeah, the one you said would eat me up. 

Remember when you told me that I wasn't good enough? 

And I started to believe you and I felt like giving up. 

Left me with a dream crushed and your empty words stuck to me. 

I didn't ever wanna fall like that again,

So I locked up any kind of emotion, 

but I got the key and I'm ready now

Set the caged bird free, time to let it all out...

I just wanna yell. 

I just wanna through it all in your face. 

It's silly that I've always felt this way. 

But you'd never know. 

I just wanna yell. 

You know that I can only take so much and 

I don't wanna keep it bottled up anymore, anymore.

I don't usually quote my entire SOTD within a post, but I am finding it difficult to say what I  really feel, and as the great philosopher Taylor Swift once said, "People haven't always been there for me, but music has." 

So, if you are reading this and know you've played a role in the massive changes I'm still trying to come to terms with - you would not be inaccurate to assume this post is for you. I wish I could say all the things I would like to, but I'm still finding new levels of frustration and I'm not convinced that would help anyone, including myself. 

For anyone that doesn't already know, I am currently unemployed. Yes, after just 7 months and completely relocating my entire life to Nashville, I was let go, unexpectedly for the second time in a decade, from a job I absolutely loved. I may never know the actual reason my contract was expired prematurely, but I can honestly say, since producing TV, the work I did for HCFA was some of the most challenging & rewarding work I could imagine doing. 

I am trying not to blame anyone; especially since the reason I was given (a management decision) is far too vague to support any assumptions I might have made or current theories that I can't seem to stop building in my head. 

However, the way it was handled was absolutely the cruelest way I could imagine. 

They say time heals all wounds, but I'm not sure I will ever fully get over this. The truth I learned is that betrayal never comes from your enemies. I doubt I will ever allow myself to trust anyone when it comes to my career. 

At the same time, it might have been true when I was told no one had ever been let go prior to the year of interim employment without good cause; my life has always seemed to play out as the exception to the rule. If something has never happened before, eventually it will - I guess if nothing else, I can say I was the first! {How lucky am I?!?} 

My gut says it wasn't just a coincidence. I might have made a mistake; I make them often. But I don't know that I can say I've ever done anything so wrong it should ruin my career. It's this uncertainty over the vagueness of my expired contract that makes me think - whatever I might have done is minor compared to whatever it is that isn't being said. You can't orchestrate a termination that efficiently without having had a few days to get your ducks in a row. 

I deserve a real answer. If you can't give me that because it makes the company vulnerable, perhaps you should have thought twice before throwing a wrecking ball at my life. Honesty. Do I not deserve at least that much? If I'm going to go down in flames, the least anyone can do is tell me who lit the match. 

I thought I was a likable person. But that and $5 will get me a cup of coffee at Starbucks. If it was a management decision, that seems a bit weak; my manager changed almost as often as my job description. It's true the last manager I was assigned to had more than a few issues with me, but it's not like I didn't go out of my way to be accomidating and responsible for my shortcomings. Ive never believed in fairness. I just wish I hadn't put such faith in loyalty. 

This is not the post I intended to come back with, but it's something I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here it is. In black & white. 

Perhaps now I can move on. 

Without the apology or explaination I feel I deserve. 

Welcome Back To The Rabbit Hole

SOTD: "I'm Sill Standing" -Elton John 

For those who are new - Welcome! 

For people who have been here before...Welcome Back! 

Just a few things before I begin. 

This blog was created as a way to navigate my life during a difficult time. Sadly, I admit, it is being resurrected for the same purpose. 

What you can expect will very day to day, but I promise it will never stray from my original intent; to share honest and true stories that I can't always find the appropriate outlet for. 

Consider this my preamble to a life that was meant to be shared - no matter how difficult the truth may be or humiliating I might find the details of that truth. 

I want to live a life that doesn't need to be written down, but until that happens, I will share the stories I want to share for no other reason than keeping them to myself would just be far too selfish. Even for me. 

Over the next few days, I will begin to share new stories. Things my truest friends already know and a few they don't. I am not looking for praise , sympathy or acceptance. I only hope that when things are completely honest, it might help someone feel less alone. 

That said, I am reopening the Rabbit Hole. A place to and share and feel safe. 

Feel free to leave comments, but know, I am not seeking the approval of anyone. 

Here we go...

Alicia 

just breathe...

SOTD: "Breathe" Anna Nalick

"2am & he calls me 'cause I'm still awake. Can you help me unravel my latest mistake, I don't love her, winter just wasn't my season." {stuck in a constant loop in my head}

Maybe I'm a masochist. For the last couple of weeks I've gone back to the old me, or at least tried to find what's left of her. The happy, active, creative, optimistic me. Those things that have been so buried I wondered if I'd ever find them again. 

It's going to sound crazy, but the catalyst was something so small (and at this moment, quite insignificant) but the mere possibility, that if all comes together, in just the right way, I might get a second chance to do work I can actually be proud of, in my favorite city, near my favorite people...as hard as I try, I can't help but get my hopes up. Even crazier, a year ago, I said I would NEVER move back to Knoxville; suddenly it's all I can think about. I can't remember the last time I wanted something so badly. 

The trouble with this is that I've really only begun to scrape the surface of the wounds left from the last year I lived there. It took over 4 years, but I can finally put it behind me & appreciate the motto I so freely spew 'Everything Happens For A Reason'. I don't think I really understood that saying until recently. It may not even be true, but it helps process things that just can't be explained. The idea that maybe our lives are written for us even before we begin living them; it's the closest thing you can get to a band-aid for a broken heart. There's an amount of optimism to that which feels familiar. 

Slowly I've started doing some of the things that I did often before everything changed, but couldn't allow myself to enjoy for a long time after, like painting. It's been really great. I forgot how much I loved it until I started a big project late last year. I also forgot how if I don't pay attention, I can go on for hours on end without eating or sleeping. I just get lost in the details & perfection. 

Very few things are within my control & anytime I'm faced with a new challenge, particularly like the insignificant, life-altering possibility at hand, I find new ways to occupy every waking moment. Without a distraction, the waiting alone will drive me nuts. (It should come as no surprise that I started writing this entry at 3am!) 

So tonight, while fighting insomnia that hasn't really been a problem since May when I was prepping for my 6 month check-up, I started watching old episodes of The Hills that I've been DVR'ing all week. This combined with switching up my driving soundtrack (I usually listen to newer stuff from my iPad, but for the last couple of weeks I've pulled out the old iPod; mostly music pre-2010, but all of my favorite songs are on it) well, it all takes me back to a different place & time. I'm watching The Hills, LC & Heidi's friendship severed at the same time I severed a friendship that I never imagined would end. And ours was over something much less serious, but it doesn't stop the flood of memories that continue to rush in. I hear songs on my iPod and instantly I'm standing in my grey bedroom pacing the floor beside my bed, on the phone with 'Somebody That I Used To Know'... He's saying "I love you" for the first time, I'm folding laundry & drafting an exit strategy (because, c'mon, it's only been 3 months, how the hell could you already be in love with me...I still don't know how you like your coffee...) or the night I realized I would never talk to my first love & true 'boy-friend' ever again. It probably sounds ridiculous to most people but I have an unhealthy relationship with many things and music ranks among the top 3. My commutes to & from work (when not having a marathon chat season with my BFFs) is always filled with music, but lately I've been playing radio roulette with my old iPod. (For those wondering, it's basically pondering the meaning of life based on whatever song pops up next on the shuffled mix; given my taste in music, it's rare that I get something that doesn't provide profound context or at the very least & awesome sing-along track!)

Maybe that's why it's after 4 & I'm still awake trying to process what I simply can't say. I know change is coming. It's exciting. It's terrifying. But worst of all, I have very little control over any of it. My friends will know what to say to make me feel like I'm still in control. I'm not sure if they're aware that they do this or if its just part of our friendship that happens naturally, without effort, but I've got 4 friends who never let me down & always know when to give me that extra attention I hate asking for but sometimes desperately need. For me, this is a harsh reality. The mere fact that I can acknowledge I want/need attention drives me nuts because being fiercely independent is kind of my thing. Nonetheless, I admit, from time to time I do. 

I was talking with a friend last night & she noted a difference in the tone of my voice. She's not wrong. It was just a couple of weeks ago I was so frustrated & just didn't know how to get out of it. In fact, the night before I get the great news that could change everything, I cried all the way home. I didn't talk to anyone that night & I was more lost & uncertain than I'd been in a very long time, if not ever. But one tiny positive sign turned everything around & now I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Back to Radio Roulette for a moment... The last song that played before I got home was The Alternate Routes "Please Don't Let It Be". It seems this song take a new point of context every time I hear it. The context changes based on the challenges in my life which make certain lyrics stick out. Tonight the lyrics I can't stop thinking about are in the main chorus: 

"Believe me, that you're standing on the edge of something good/But it's the hardest thing you ever had to do/Truth be told, you're begging on your knees/Singing please don't let it, please don't let it be"

I'm not sure why these are the words haunting me tonight. Maybe it's my fear of change; of making the same mistakes all over again. Sometimes I get so wrapped up thinking about what will happen 3 steps ahead that I miss what's right under my feet. I've had many regrets, in hindsight. People I wish I had spent more time with & no longer have that option; people I wish I hadn't given so much of my time to, knowing now, I'll never get it back. I see photos of what my life could've been if I hadn't been so headstrong, career driven & afraid of letting someone get too close. I see everyone around me moving forward and it's like I'm stuck in a glass box that's shatterproof. My best friend got married earlier this year & although we say it wont change our friendship, I dont expect to have the same crazy random fun our friendship was built on. I have no doubts we will remain friends but I also know there are now two other people who come first and I couldn't be happier about that, honestly. My other best friend still works for the company that broke my heart. Not only that, but she's there at least 6 days a week & works much later than she should, so when we find the time to talk, it's hard to avoid certain topics that leave me feeling unsettled; I hear about people who are still doing the job I loved so dearly that are unhappy, complacent & ungrateful and it drives me nuts. (I may never fully recover from the way my departure was handled; see blog entry #1 for the full story). My other two best friends are planning weddings; one for January 2014 & the other for June 2014 in California. 

I've been rambling for quite a while & I'm no closer to an answer than when I started, but it has been a great distraction to get me through a sleepless night & considering I've barely used this blog all year, if at all...I doubt anyone will ever even see this. If you do, maybe there's a reason you ended up in my rabbit hole...in any case, this is all I have to say & I don't intend to post another 'diary' entry anytime soon. Just needed to get a few things out of my head without bothering anyone else for a change. 

I'll leave with my favorite lyrics from SOTD: 

"2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song/If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me/Threatening the life it belongs to/And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd/Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud/And I know that you'll use them, however you want to"

10 years later...

SOTD: Taylor Swift - "22"

Last October, I shared the story of how, as a senior in college, I had my first encounter with breast cancer. Thank God, aside from the ugly scar from my lumpectomy (which I'm still a little upset hasn't turned into the "stretch-mark" I was promised...) I managed to escape with minimal damage (emotional or physical).
What I didn't mention in that story is that even as I wrote it, I knew there was a mass growing in a place that it shouldn't have been growing. What's worse, I didn't want to do what I knew needed to be done, so I didn't. Yes, I know. It's irresponsible, hypocritical & basically all the things I find revolting in people who annoy me. So, why, you might ask am I telling this story now?
Because it matters.
A couple of months ago (3rd Saturday in October to be exact), I spent the weekend with an old friend. She's one of those friends who has spanned such a large part of my adult life, that I can't remember a major event that she wasn't a part of & the months (and sometimes years) when we weren't super close are insignificant in comparison. She was one of the few people who knew of my scare in college, so, after a weekend of classic bonding, in a way only we can do, I confessed my fear that there might be something to worry about. Once the words came out, there was no turning back, I knew I had to make the appointment and good or bad, face it head on.
The following week, I made an appointment. Ironically, the earliest appointment available was the morning of November 5th (the day after my birthday & the day before Election Day). I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried more about this doctors appointment than the fact that I was turning 32 and hadn't accomplished a quarter of the things I had planned by that age. But, I didn't want anyone to worry unnecessarily, so I didn't really tell anyone what was happening. Instead, I just smiled and acted like everything was perfectly fine (cue: The Wreckers - "Stand Still, Look Pretty"). Finally, the big day arrived & as much as I wanted to think I had imagined something that wasn't really there, my doctor agreed, something wasn't right. Five minutes into my exam, he had a nurse schedule another appointment with a radiologist for the very next day. I'm not really sure what happened over the course of the next 24 hours, at least not in the world around me. I can, however, account for every second in my overly-active, imaginative head. I played out every worst case scenario as if November 6th - a day which for months I had imagined to be the greatest day in a generation, the day Barack Obama was elected for a second term - would be my doomsday (I often wonder if this is how Republicans felt that day...but I digress).
Since I had voted on Halloween, I wasn't worried about the election, in fact the election allowed a much needed reality check with my favorite little girls on the planet. An hour before my ultrasound, my goddaughters meet me for coffee as they were passing through from Nashville. In an instant I was brought back to earth and reminded of the importance of being brave & no matter what the future held, how they saw me handle it mattered more than any fear or pain I might face.

The ultrasound went pretty quickly, but not without a few quirky moments. I didn't realize it at the time, but the ultrasound tech looked really familiar. It wasn't until I got to my car I put it together, we graduated high school in the same class. I'm not sure if she knew it was me during the exam, I'd say she probably did, which is why, although both my doctor & I could feel an unnatural growth, during the ultrasound she assured me there was nothing there. "Absolutely nothing to worry about".
With that, I headed back to work, with what felt like the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. I called my friend on my drive back to share the good news, after all, it was only 12 hours before she was reassuring me that everything would be fine a vowing to stand by my side, no matter what. That's a pretty good friend. But I found I don't have a really good friend. I have a best friend, an amazing, confident and brave friend. I found this when she offered her first, honest, reaction to my sigh of relief; paraphrasing..."Oh, thank God, I don't have to shave my head"! I wanted to laugh & cry all at once. For the record, I would never let anyone shave their head in solidarity. It's an awfully kind and thoughtful thing to do, but why on earth would you do something that you may very well not be equipped to pull off fashionably without medical necessity? Have we learned nothing from the braveness of Kelly Pickler?!?
Our conversation that day was one of my favorites because I knew no matter what, I had someone who will always have my back (or as the case may be, boob). It was a nice feeling.
Election Day played out much like I expected. As my friend put it so eloquently on Twitter the next morning, I was on cloud nine... Until about 10am.
That was around the time I got the call I wasn't expecting. It was my doctor's office. They had received the radiology report & it wasn't looking as "absolute" as I had been told. It all happened so fast & unexpectedly, but what I remember were the words "surgical consult" & "lymph node". My doctor was not equipped to follow through with the types of tests & exams that I needed, so they arranged for me to meet with my old friend (and surgeon) Dr. Webber at the Knoxville Comprehensive Breast Center.
Another irony in this story is that only a few months before another good friend was confronting this same issue with her mother & I sang the praises of Dr. Webber, who ultimately ended up treating her Mom. I guess that's why I had his information handy and available when the nurse asked if I had a preference. Within a few hours, I had a full day of surgical & radiological consults scheduled for the next week.
The joy we shared a day earlier was quickly shattered as my worst fears were suddenly possibilities again. Because I know that it's a waste of time to worry, I try to just live in the moment & worry when there's something to worry about. However, if you follow me on twitter or Facebook & noticed posts, tweets or complaints about insomnia or random things at even more random hours, you now know why. I simply didn't sleep for over a week. Then came the big day, November 15th.
As expected, my friend had cleared her schedule and sat by my side for nearly every second of this frightening day. The only time I don't remember her being there was during the mammograms; she wasn't allowed in due to the radiation exposure risk. I don't know that I've ever had a friend as devoted & caring. From the snacks she packed for the long day ahead, to the inappropriate stories she told at just the right time to ease my anxiety, to the fury she expressed as we left the facility (more on that in a minute...) I wasn't facing the scariest battle of my life alone, and I knew it.
So the final stop on the "Show us your lumpy boob" tour was the ultrasound which, again, went really well. That said, even the ultrasound tech mentioned the possibility that the doctor might want to biopsy the area after she looked at the mammogram images & ultrasound video. So, we weren't out of the woods just yet, but it was as close to an all clear as I could have expected. In fact, once the news set in, I'm pretty sure I started to cry. Not because I was sad or scared, but because I had been so scared & for the first time in a week (which at that point had started to feel like a year) I breathed a sigh of relief. But like every other part of this story, there was quickly a tipping point.
This time it was when the doctor came in. It didn't help that she asked me "so, what's going on here today?", as if she had no idea why I was half dressed sitting on her exam table. Then, in a matter of minutes, it was discussed & decided that at least one biopsy & tagging would be taking place, but it turns out there's a second, smaller, more narrow area on the underside that also has blood-flow & looks a bit mysterious. So mysterious that it only showed up in half of the images & scans. So another, more targeted set of mammogram images was needed before a final decision could be made.
The new scans only made the issue more complicated & so, what I thought would be over by the end of the day was now being scheduled for more invasive follow up in 2 weeks. TWO MORE WEEKS!?!?!

I had no choice. I adapted my philosophy that you shouldn't worry without cause & tried to hold it together for the next 14 days while I waited to see just how bad the situation might be. Along the way, there were many sleepless nights filed with worst case scenario soap operas which played out in the most dramatic ways in my head. At some point I decided to start bribing myself. I bought lots of "because you made it this far" gifts like a breast cancer awareness North Face jacket, a Kate Spade watch I had been lusting after for several months & three or four (I honestly lost count) new Kate Spade purses. (If it's not clear already, I'm a huge fan of Kate Spade!)
The gifts helped but the time didn't pass any faster. I tried other things too, like painting, but my OCD was only heightened by my anxiety & the need to create perfection superseded the joy of escaping through art. Then there was the notice that my insurance would not cover an MRI, the very test the doctor thought was necessary and ultimately the reason everything was pushed out 2 additional weeks. Of course it came over Thanksgiving weekend, so not only was I freaked out about the insurance issue, there was nothing I could do about it until Monday! Even then, it was a no go on the MRI, which is where the fury my friend expressed actually starts to make sense. I could have had every procedure on the first visit, but because of the second spot & stupid MRI, they put it off. It didn't make sense at the time & made even less sense now.
When November 29th finally arrived, I had decided since they were only doing a needle biopsy & tagging on the original mass, I could handle it on my own. I wasn't really afraid. I had honestly made peace with the whole situation. And then I got there. And it started to hit me, I was going to have a very big needle entering a very sensitive area & at least one of these entries would be "tagging", or marking the growth with a tiny titanium ribbon or wing. Slowly, and then a little more quickly I was entering the panic zone. Then, as if God himself knew I was on the edge of losing it, the nurse came in with an anti-anxiety drug & requested the person who would be driving me home. Well, of course, I didn't have anyone. I was doing it alone, remember?!? I immediately called my friend, who, by the way is a teacher, who was still on the clock. Without hesitation, she said she'd leave as soon as her kids were gone & would be there within an hour. And she was. In that hour, the procedure was completed. The worst part for me was before anything actually happened. It was during the prep when the nurse described in very specific detail, step by step, what would happen. Turned on my side, facing the wall, I found myself silently crying out of fear. So much for doing it alone! It was in that moment I realized life isn't meant to challenge tough things alone. That's why we have family & friends. I had barely been bandaged & re-dressed when my friend arrived. Both full of fury for not having been told we should prepare or this the first time around & concern for the trauma she could see through the fear in my eyes, she did what only she could do; she held it together for me & made sure I had all the info/drugs/supplies I needed for my recovery.
Seeing that I never relaxed enough for the drugs to actually work, she followed me as I drive back to her house. I stayed with her as I recovered for the next few days. That night, although I managed to lose more blood from a scrape to my knee acquired through a totally innocent walking mishap while attempting to obtain dinner from Panera, I got the best night's sleep I'd had in over a month. So good that when my friend was on her way home from work, well after 3pm, it was her call to check on me that woke me from a very peaceful slumber. Within the next hour, I got the news I needed...the biopsy results showed absolutely NO abnormalities. I was in the clear; at least for the mass growing around the lymph node. The most upsetting news is actually pretty vain; instead of a titanium ribbon, I was tagged with a titanium wing. I know...there are tons of women who would rather complain about the shape of the titanium injected into their bodies & not the chemo or other horrible treatments they have to endure. The final word was that I am basically in the clear & will follow up in March/April to check on the second mass, but I'm not worried. I'm built with titanium. Whatever happens, I will make it through with lots of love & support from friends & family.
I've just realized the length to which I've told this story and haven't explained why.
Today is December 23rd, 2012. Exactly 10 years ago today, my first tumor was extracted & found to be benign. In my family, we celebrate Christmas a little early each year when we acknowledge the events of December 23, 2002. Each year I am grateful & reminded of the importance, for women of all ages, to be aware of their own breast health. Early detection could be the difference between a needle biopsy or mastectomy, or in even worse cases, life & death.