I finally took the little bugger out.
Or had it taken out, I should say. I've had a strange lump in my breast for years, and my suspicion is that it had something to do with a decade's worth of birth control pills. It used to come and go like a traveling visitor, but eventually it would just stick around to make everyone nervous. I had been really hesitant about having it cut out, mostly for the sake of vanity. I am a little embarrassed about that since it makes me sound trite, but my breasts are NICE. Really nice. If you saw them, you'd understand.
So eventually I came to my senses and decided that I needed to approach this thing just like anything else. Deal with it, get rid of it, and move on. I've been pretty good about confronting my fears lately and being honest with myself. It's not in my nature to let the bullshit pile up, and I realized this shouldn't be any different.
So on 6/21, I said goodbye to the strange little ball of denial that had taken up residency my right breast.
Surgery was a new experience. It felt futuristic, like an Aldous Huxley novel...but cozier. I enjoyed the sweet complements dished out by my crazy nurse, and the magical "warming blanket." It was a little private little hot air tent for my body, like a little fire at my feet... like my favorite line in En Gallop.
It was over before I knew it, and recovery hasn't been too bad. I haven't seen my right breast yet, it's mummified under layers of gauze, but I know its there quietly resting and healing. Despite the scar, no matter how strange, I know I did good by her.
Now I wait for the biopsy results. Wish me luck.