Cara came home Friday night. As an RA, she gets 4 - 24 hour blocks of personal time a month. She used one of them for 'mommy time' as she phrased it. Listening to her talking about 'her' girls was fun. She's really cut out to be an RA. She managed to get a rapist to confess. That was a hair raising story right there. I learned that Cara is capable and resourceful and level headed and brave.
We went to see Francesca Battistelli Saturday night at a historical theater. It was really lovely. We took Brianna, and ran into other friends there. That was a nice Saturday, walking back to our cars in the dark and laughing.
Church gathered close around me, to hug me and to weep. Their tears must have unfrozen my own, because last night I climbed into bed where Tim was waiting. I opened my mouth to speak and started to cry. Tim, surprised, said "Hey, now, you don't need to cry...." but actually I did, I think. I cried about the pending loss of my breast, and I find myself thinking perhaps I should request a bilateral mastectomy. I'm going to ask for a diagnostic mammogram on the right breast as well, because back at the beginning you remember, there was another lump there. Now I cannot tell so much. The lumps from the medport scar tissue make it hard to figure out what's going on there, so I figure that mammogram is prudent. I cried about my hair, just barely grown back from the last chemo. I cried about something else, too. A question that occured to me. A lot of people read this blog and most of you never take the time to comment, but I'm going to ask: Do any of you know anyone that had a second bout w/ breast cancer...and won? Anyone?