Who Doesn't Like A Junior Mint?

My life often resembles a sit-com, so I'm hoping that today's episode is Seinfeld's "The Junior Mints."  There has been a small lump in my right breast for the past several months.  I initially thought it was part of the expander port, because it was located right along the edge.  But after my exchange surgery, it was still there.  When I brought it to the attention of my plastic surgeon at my last appointment, she made the "Oh, that doesn't feel like something that is normal" face that I've seen before and then quickly caught herself making the face and said "It's probably just scar tissue.  Let's wait a month and see what happens."  Well, the month is up and this morning she took out two pea-sized chunks of me.  They didn't look like Junior Mints, but I'm hoping that's what it will turn out to be.  The pathology should be back by Wednesday of next week.  Monday's holiday delays things a bit.

I've known for a month that this was going to happen today and I struggled about whether or not to write about it here.  I decided not to for a couple of reasons.  First, I was worrying enough for everyone, so I didn't want anyone else to.  Second, I hate "the look."  It's usually accompanied by "the question" and may or may not involve a head tilt.  I don't like people to treat me like I'm sick and the pitying "How are you?" pushes me over the edge.  But there are also a couple of reasons why I decided now would be a good time to break my silence.  This blog is supposed to be about the whole journey, and if I'm hiding parts of that, then it's not an authentic portrayal of how bumpy a ride it actually is.  And I thought now might actually be a good time to let people worry, if they could direct that worry in to prayers or chants or pleas to the universe.  Please don't let this be cancer.  Again.