Making the Breast of a bad situation...

So, I went to the doctor.

The results of the TWO mammograms and follow-up ultrasound are in.

The follow-up will now have a follow-up.

I'll be meeting with my surgeon on December 22nd. Ho ho ho and a very merry Christmas to you, too.

It's not the first time I've been under the gun during the Holiday season and perhaps that might be fitting. Right now, I am thinking very much about the life and mission of the Savior. Though he started in a manger, he didn't stay a baby forever. That tiny babe of Bethlehem grew up to be the Divinely appointed Savior of the world. The words of the "Messiah" remind us that 'surely, he hath born our griefs and carried our sorrows'. There is something soothing about knowing that he is carrying the weight of all that troubles the human heart.

The grief and sorrow of things that don't work the way you expect. Even the sorrows that come from worry over a pound of flesh skillfully arranged into a woman's breast...

I don't know what the further biopsies will reveal. Right now, I'm scared but okay. If the tests show that the breasts gotta go, then I hope my life is worth more than a couple of pounds of flesh that are more show than substance. They aren't that big anyway.

I just wish that the timing would be better since it is obvious that this particular "cup" can't be "passed from me". I don't want to ruin everyone's holy day of Christmas with a nagging concern for my personal issues. It makes me feel horrible.

While I am no martyr nor am I unconscious of the fact that everyone has an appointed time to come and an equally important appointment with our departure from mortal life, I am not really enjoying this view into my own mortality. It makes me feel so exposed, vulnerable and, well, human. I hope for more time in this part of my journey. And I feel like that human part of me that is struggling to stay welded to the divine that also makes up my being is not keeping up its end of the equation by bailing on me this way.

Just who gave my boob permission to go develop a problem like this anyway? No one asked me about it and I didn't receive any messages from the "Head Office" telling me this particular trial was coming down the pike. But I suppose that would defeat the purpose, now wouldn't it. God isn't malicious or cruel. He allows nature to take its course and works through natural means to bring about the purposes he has in mind. It's just sometimes that those life lessons we are to have sorta suck like lemons....

My patriarchal blessing talks quite frankly about the Job-like aspects of my life. That is kind of a scary reminder that the world will ALWAYS rage around me this way. I don't always have the kind of fortitude for the battle and frankly, some days, I'd just like a nap. When I was younger, I didn't understand what that admonition was all about. I still don't, but as you go over the scars and map of my life via the procedures I have endured, it is certainly a cautionary "jobian" tale of just what God might have in mind.

Despite knowing that we don't all get the same journey precisely because we are different children on an individual learning curve, there are days I think in my finite understanding that I wouldn't mind trading my trials for those of another.

I hate feeling so vulnerable and scared. Being a wussy isn't part of my normal nature. Sure, I have my moments, but most of the time, I am charging hell with a water pistol. The reality is I'm concerned for me, but more concerned for other people who might depend on me. I simply don't want to let anyone down. I don't want my concerns to derail their happiness nor to prevent them from achieving their life purposes.

But now, the breast has spoken. The leviathan that is the mammography machine and its equally formidable minion of the ultrasound machine have spoken and what they said was not fit for public consumption.

Will things be okay, be altered or be gone?

At this point, I really don't know and I'm too frightened to really contemplate it.

I'm trying to rely upon the mental image of a pair of scarred hands, wounded in my behalf, resting atop my head to take away a bitter moment that he has already endured in Gethsemane for me.

From what well may be a very damage breast, He is taking on the feelings and fear and making the best from the situation in the way HE designs. I just have to have the faith to believe that He will show me what that best way is and how I can do what is needed and learn the lesson that He wants to share.

She said "yes"!

It's hard to believe that my young'un is this old, but he is.

Thomas and his newly affianced sweetheart Tianna are about to embark on their life together ...

May 12th of 2012 is the day. 

I'm so happy for them, I could just about bust!

And yeah, for all you grammarians, I know the approved phraseology is "I am so pleased that I feel I might burst with happiness." but it ain't country enough to cover the emotion. Some times, saying it  how it feels is the best anyway.

Since I just don't have a whole lot of extra words to add, I'll just say this:

CONGRATULATIONS TO MY SON THOMAS AND HIS LOVELY TIANNA!!