|cats in boxes|
As was my experience, she immediately began to feel better.
She got some questions answered. That other breast? The doctor feels it's a matter of when, not if. The scary part is that nothing showed on the scans. Even after they knew where to look, nothing showed. Her tissue is young and dense; the errant cells well hidden by their healthy peers. But Tamoxifen should keep any cell changes at bay for the five years she's on it and 2-3 years to follow, so nothing needs to be done now. She will see an oncologist on 3/10, get more information, and make a decision about further surgery after that.
She went home and rested for another day or so, then was done being sick. (perhaps, just perhaps, she takes after her mother in this, too.) She found a gentle yoga class she could go to, she's started making plans on how and when she's going to ease back into work.
Predictably, I suppose, she overdid it this weekend - and came down with a cold to boot. Back to resting for her. I know she doesn't appreciate the speed of her healing; she's impatient and wants life to be back to normal. But it's only been two weeks since surgery. I think her recovery is proceeding wonderfully.
My week was one of recovery as well. As always in crisis, I think the world should stop, or at least have the courtesy to slow down a bit while I regain my balance. As always, the world shows no awareness of my desires and proceeds along its stately path towards entropy.
In some ways, the plunge back into the normalcy of work was good for me. There is comfort in the rhythm of normal days. The weekend was good - I set some order to my mess here, and took a few baby steps on my project. But I still took today off. I needed an extra sleep-in day, or I was going to come down with a cold of my own.
Today, I plan to write some, read some, work some, rest some.
Not think some, not yet. I'm not ready to reflect on all the implications of what's happened in the past few weeks. But that's OK - the time will come, and short-term willful denial has a firm place in my list of coping mechanisms.
Please keep her in your prayers. Her road is not yet clear.