It's a gray, cloudy day.
I feel gray.
I feel like I am sitting all alone on this single, cold, gray bench.
No one really understands. No one really cares. That's not unusual, I've felt that way since I was a teen. As an adult those feelings don't plague me often. But I feel that way today....cold and gray and alone.
I didn't think it was bothering me, it never did before, but I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I trudge on to the task ahead.
I walked into the building and smelled that awful odor. I could feel that grim, determined look overtaking my face.
I took the elevator to the 3rd floor and checked in for my appointment and started a new book. The main character's mother has just passed away from cancer. That is not what I needed to be reading as I await my mammogram, the first one since my breast cancer diagnosis.
Bonnie calls me in and I give her the pertinent dates, highlights, etc. She puts markers on certain areas and tells me my scar looks great. OK. She does her best to make me feel comfortable and does a good job. They have a new 3D machine and I like it better than the old one. Since I have lymphedema on my right breast that side hurts a little, but is nothing to complain about. She takes several 'pictures' and we hope we're done. I put on a warm robe and she
Bonnie leaves to speak to the radiologist so I pull out my book and do some more reading. A few minutes later both of them enter the room, we shake hands, etc. Dr Stephani asks how I am. Of course I say something to the effect of "I'm not sure. How am I?" He assures me everything looks good, no signs of a tumor.
I'm good! I'm great! I'm happy!
My one year cancerversary is almost here. If you haven't had cancer It means nothing to you, you don't understand, but to a cancer survivor it is a big deal.