I am 38%

5:45am alarm today. I arose from bed with more ease than I thought possible. As I made my coffee I began to wonder, what am I doing scheduling a 6:45am mammogram? Who in their right mind begins the day with such an event? Fine, perhaps, for the woman who had her first at age 40 and has never seen an abnormal result. But, for someone with a breast disease who will inevitably discuss larger, potentially scarier things, this might be a mistake. But, at this point... coffee done, yogurt consumed, 10 minutes left to leave the house... this was not the time to start changing my mind. Plus, I'm strong. I can handle this.

I'm strong.

Mammogram goes smoothly. Pleasant technician. Minimal discomfort. Now, I wait for results. (Results come quickly for us high-risk gals.) 10ish minutes go by. A nurse comes in. I am released. Sign here, here and here. Call your doctor to schedule, blah, blah, blah.

Great, right? No. No no nonnononono NO. (This is where my struggle begins.)

I explain as patiently as possible that a sonogram was ordered by my oncologist. She says it's not necessary. Their policies, etc. I explain again. Explain my disease, past imaging, past experiences where I've told "no" before. I get upset. I calm down. Then, explain "I am not leaving til I get my sonogram... sorry". She stares at me for a moment. I stare back. And then she empowers me; tells me it's nice to see a young patient stand up for themselves. She smiles as she exits the room to speak to the doctor again. I wait... again.

Now my adrenaline is coursing through my veins. It's only 7:30am and I have blood surging. I calm myself and decide to look over the documents I just signed, but I've been here so many times before that I hardly pay attention. The one thing I notice... 38% risk of developing breast cancer in my lifetime.

Another waiting room. Another pleasant technician. More talk of my disease, past imaging, surgeries, how I'm "so young", blah, blah, blah. Test is over and again more waiting for results. Alone in this room with my thoughts. (Not a good thing.) I begin to think more about that 38%, wondering what that means exactly. How bad is 38% really?

Many, many minutes go by. The technician pops her head in to say we're next in line for the radiologist. I force a calm smile and go back to my thoughts. Minutes go by and by.

She returns. All is well. I am released, but here is this form to sign again... this 38%. I can barely comprehend. I know this is a higher risk than I've been told before, but the weight of this escapes me. Here I am on a Wednesday morning... before the school day begins, before my office phone starts ringing, before my husband & dog are awake... and I face a new reality. Less than two hours ago I was making coffee in my kitchen laughing at what a silly girl I was to make this appointment so early. Now? I'm not laughing. Nor am I crying. I am barely breathing.

Fast forward a few hours to my office kitchen. I stand alone with the afternoon sun beaming through the window. Good day, considering. But then, right there between the coffee maker and the dishwasher, I begin sobbing. And sobbing. The weight of the day has finally sunk in. The 38% finally has a meaning. All I want is to be home right now in my husband's arms.

I sob for what seemed like an hour. Probably only 20 seconds or so, in reality. Then my strength returns. My armor builds. Head up high, I make my coffee and walk back to my desk with this new reality ingrained in my heart. But you know what? I'm strong. And really? I've the other 64% on my side.

perhaps

A lovely friend, Stephanie of Love in the Time of Foreclosure, recently tweeted about a Young House Love post on money management. 'Twas a very encouraging post and actually made me revisit my recent struggle over our family's choice to be a two car family. Crazy thought for LA, I know, but when you consider car payments, gas, insurance, maintenance, etc. it seems somehow easier to comprehend. (At least while we're still a family of two + 1/2.) But I digress...

While clicking through their blog I also stumbled upon another post which talks about the lovely feeling of downsizing. Myself, a notorious purger (of household goods that is), LOVES the thought. Given that we live in a rather intimate one bedroom bungalow it's actually a necessary key to our sanity. And like I've mentioned before, simplicity is a frequent goal.

I think perhaps as I drive my car home today (relishing in our two-car-family-life for now) I'll contemplate a few actions towards simplifying / purging / shedding. Perhaps I'll have a few ideas to share... Perhaps, perhaps.

good good good

oh, Abby. thank you for this gift: good goods. I can't wait to see these lovelies in person one day:

{ images via: Abby Try Again }

the beginning

I begin any new search by looking at the natural, organic, simplest way of doing things. While looking for a dining room rug for our new home, I did a search that landed us a lovely flor faux-AstroTurf number. With health, I always take the holistic approach first. So, of course it made sense to begin my thoughts about maybe / possibly considering motherhood with a google search of organic pregnancy. It came as no surprise a book has already been written with that title (well, almost). I must say, while I clicked further into this title, The Complete Organic Pregnancy, I did so with a healthy (or more than healthy) amount of green-washing scepticism. However, once I came across an article at Sustainable Table, which seems to be written by the book's two authors, I was sold. My heart / soul / female-self said yes, yes, yes. It's a simple few words that struck a cord, but here they are... in all their fifteen word goodness:

Pregnancy is an opportunity for a woman to reform her life and seek ultimate wellness...

Again, they're simple words. And a simple idea. But for who I am, where I am, at THIS moment in my life, those few words made my heart sing. Guess it's time to get reading...

let it grow

My parents are re-imagining their backyard. The major changes? The 15 year old batting cage is out. A vegetable garden is in. {Delight.} In their design they've included a plot for Nick & me to grow whatever suits our fancy. Given our love of gardening, but current Bungalow-living situation, this comes as a much appreciated gift.


Our current dilemma? What to plant. We're heavily considering the pickles (since it's a Cernoch Family tradition). And, while browsing A Cup of Jo this afternoon I ran across images of canning delight. Doesn't that lovely printed jar just make you want to get pickling?


{Image via Burgon & Ball}

a flower for you...

... and me.




A beautiful bloom in my front yard. The photo taken on a morning where I knew a dear friend was about to wake up to a reality quite different than the day before. I felt like this flower opened fully, that particular morning, just for her...

Today I'm revisiting the flower; giving myself a little needed beauty on this dreary, weary day.

{Posted using BlogPress on my lovely iPhone}

mini inspiration

I'm already desperate for a camping trip, but this aDORable photo has me over the edge. A matching picnic basket and blanket, are you kidding me? Oh, and please note the Slippy Peanut Butter....

Photo via: Tada Revolution