As part of the comprehensive care I’m receiving, I had an MRI on Monday evening. (I’ll post more about it at another time.) The reason for an MRI pre-breast surgery is to make sure there are no other areas of concern.
This is another one of those icky posts.
There are a number of astrological “rules” for scheduling surgery and although I am not a professional astrologer, I know enough to seek out this knowledge and try to incorporate it into my treatment. Rules is in quotes because we don’t always get to choose the time or date, and because the most important factor is not related to astrology, but to the surgeon’s competence. That said, if you have the luxury to participate in the scheduling of your surgery, there are several things to look for, or plan around.
An unexpected part of the drama that is my cancer life (as opposed to my real life) is the realization that I need to go through a number of legal hoops to ensure that, if necessary, J. can speak on my behalf when I can’t. For example, when I am unconscious during the upcoming surgery.
A few weeks ago, I had several encounters with Rabbit.
Although we live in a populated suburb, surrounded by warehouses and housing developments, there is a strong natural component that remains from the years when this was a fertile valley filled with farms. Of course there are the seagulls, crows, ducks, pigeons, and geese. Almost daily I see red-tailed hawks, for example. A Great Blue Heron lives in several ponds and lakes nearby, and in the spring we see many bunnies along the bike paths and walkways. Tiny little things, they go tharn at the sight of us until they can’t stand our nonstop approach and flee into the brush. I’m not talking about them, I’m talking about Rabbit.
Mostly. There’s some other potential drama/news in my life that I’m not going to share until it resolves itself, and that is (literally) depressing me.
I’m on the verge of a cold, which means I am staying home from work to get over rather than give into.
I’m making progress on completing my will and medical directive. (Which aren’t *hard* to, but are complicated by my intellectual assets. And no, I don’t mean my brain 🙂 thanks for asking.) There’s a longer post coming, but the short version would be: what do I do with the Tradition I created, my magickal writings, my ritual implements, and my websites full of data? Particularly since my life partner isn’t pagan.
So I am doing well. Then a friend had the following video posted as a comment. And I bawled.
It’s a little after 5pm on Friday evening, and I’m watching a definitely-waxing moon climb into a clear blue sky above the vaguely pyramidically building that almost-but-not-quite blocks m view of Mt. Rainier.
My, that’s a long sentence.
Right. So I haven’t mentioned this, although I’ve known for a week. There were people who needed to know first.
I have breast cancer.
I’ve been managing to not worry too much about the biopsy, which was scheduled for several weeks after my second mammogram. But the night before it all hit me pretty hard and I was (for me) very upset. I managed it by having a very good workout (30 mins of cardio and strength training combined), a hot shower, a couple of videos, a glass of wine, and a very good book.
I got a pretty good nights’ sleep and had a light breakfast before I left. I considered skipping breakfast, but realized that I’d probably get VERY shaky if I let my blood sugar drop too much. So, toast, ricotta and jam it was.
NOTE: I’ll be pretty blunt and graphic in this next part, so if you will feel like a voyeur, or get queasy at medical procedures, do NOT read any further.
ok. you were warned. no squeamishness.
This is a follow up to my previous post about getting a mammogram.
Quite a few women need to go back for a follow up mammogram screening. This is usually not a cause for concern — our breasts have lots of odd bits n pieces of tissue in them, including fatty deposits, ropey fibers, and liquid-filled cysts. Your first screening is viewed with specific care so that any questions about the non-usual can be seen to quickly, mapped out, and then they become part of your future screenings. “Is that something over towards the left?” “Yeah, that’s a little nodule — had it forever.”