The Most Beautiful Day

I had my yearly mammogram last week.  I'd forgotten all about it until two days ago.  I came home from walking the dogs on a beautiful fall day to find the light blinking on my answering machine.  I pressed play.

The message was for me.  It was the mammography specialist at Jefferson Radiology.  Would I please call her back?

Intellectually, I knew it was stupid to panic.  But my brain was going to places that weren't calm and reasonable.  I tried calling her back but got her answering machine.  As instructed, I left my cell phone number so she could reach me wherever I was.  Five hours later when I finally talked with her in person, she just told me that something in the films looked different than last year and they needed more views to determine what it was.

The first appointment I could get was two days away.

My mind was all over the place.  Growing up, breast cancer was a pretty dismal diagnosis.  I know there is a world of difference in breast cancer treatments today.  Still, just the thought of any cancer at all is enough to instill fear in my heart.  My kids still need me.  My husband. My sister.  My grandchildren would never know me.  I'm glad I take so many pictures.  I'm glad I write this blog.

Have you ever heard about someone you know being diagnosed with cancer and you feel horrible for them, but you also feel a little bit of relief because you think your odds of getting cancer have just gone down?  Then you feel guilty for even thinking that thought?  I have, and I'm not proud of it.

Other thoughts were of my parents.  I considered how the end of life isn't quite as scary as it used to be because I believe I will see them again someday.

Then I considered how I would face the disease process.  Would I be strong and face it with courage and optimism, doing whatever I had to do to beat the disease and enjoying life as much as possible?  Would I be able to appreciate all that I have?  Or would I wallow in self-pity?  I hope I wouldn't do that.

Next, I started cleaning the house.  I put away the 3 laundry baskets full of clean laundry that had been decorating my bedroom for the past few weeks.   I vacuumed.  I cleaned the kid's bathroom.  Kind of like the nesting instinct before you give birth, I was kind of preparing for something.

I also talked to God.

Sometime during that first day of not knowing, a sense of calm and peace came over me. It seems like I had thought through every possibility that could happen,  and I knew I could handle it. Who knows? Maybe there's a reason this was happening that I didn't know yet.  I had to trust in God. I just felt that everything was going to be ok.

I slept 9 hours last night and woke up very rested.  It was a beautiful day once again.  As I walked into the medical building I was in awe at how beautiful the trees were.  And the breeze felt so nice.  I was amazingly calm.

It was a happy ending.  With additional views, the radiologist declared everything to be normal.  YES!

The day was just as beautiful when I walked to my car to leave.  I was relieved for sure.  I was also proud of myself.  Even though it turned out to be nothing, I felt like I had faced the enemy and was stronger because of it.

And more appreciative for my life.