My weekend:
Friday I got my biopsy results back...my tumor was indeed benign and pathology was able to confirm that it was a fibroadenoma. I don't know yet what that means as far as likelihood of it coming back or not. I go to the doctor for my post-op follow up today and I've got a list of questions. I didn't expect the tumor to be cancerous, but without a biopsy, you never know. It seems like a little piece of good news, but it could have easily been a big piece of bad news.
My friend, who had a biopsy a couple of days before me, wasn't so lucky. She has to wait a whoooole weeeeek between finding out that her tumor is cancerous and meeting with the doctor to find out what stage the cancer is in and what her treatment options are. I texted her Friday to share my good news, hoping she had the same kind to share with me. I tried to imagine her fear but I can't begin to. Breast cancer is a big, bad deal. I hope the early detection lends itself to a great prognosis.
Sunday morning, one of my best friends (who happens to be a nurse) was telling me the story of an out of control patient (who happened to be homeless) that literally lunged at her in an attempt to attack her. She'd declined the assistance of the security guards because she wanted to spare her patient's feelings when she confronted him about smoking in his hospital room. While being so brave and compassionate, she put herself at risk. I think she was truly scared and maybe she will reconsider the next time she puts a patient's comfort before her own safety...but knowing her, probably not. It's one of the things I love about her the most. That could have turned out really badly for her, and unfortunately it ended badly for her patient. He signed out of the hospital against medical advice and was discharged to the streets in the freezing cold, with no shirt on his back and nowhere to go.
While she was recounting everything that had happened, I felt this little baby move around in my belly for the very first time. I counted four kicks and 2 swirly motions - I know, isn't that a great description? Although I was captivated and saddened by her story, I couldn't help but smile at the little ways my sweet baby was saying "good morning, mommy." And that was really good. It seems like a little thing, but it's not. Every day that I feel my baby move is a day that I don't have to worry if he or she is okay in there. Losing this baby would be a big, bad thing. I'm so lucky to have made it this far into my pregnancy and I am trying not to take that for granted.
A few hours later, I learned that another one of my best friends' grandfather had died. This is not your average granddaughter-grandfather relationship. We all expect our loved ones to grow old and pass away and be sad about it. This friend's grandparents have shaped her life in so many ways. They have more or less been her parents. The passing of this dear man isn't just bad, it's devastating. What a beautiful life he lived though... he was married to his sweetheart for over 60 years. In this day and age, who can say that? It would be beyond good to spend that much time with anyone you loved. They were the picture perfect grandparents, too. Holding hands and bickering all the while. And would have done anything in the world for anyone, not just each other. Good, honest people You don't run into that every day. Now we will see what happens to my friend's grandmother, who's Alzheimer's has been getting worse and worse over recent months.
So much smiling, so much crying. Life is an interesting thing, isn't it?
~C~
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