My surgeon called promptly at 8:30 a.m. today with the wonderful news that they found no sign of cancer ANYWHERE.
I don’t even have to get another mammogram for a year.
I’m still soaking it in. After spending almost a month in this nightmare, it’s a little hard to switch gears into, “Oh, well. Never mind.”
Last night I watched the first 4 episodes of Laura Linney’s Showtime series, The Big C, just in case I needed to be prepared for the worst.
But the worst turns out to be a boob that’sgoing from black and blue to red to yellow, and may end up with a couple of battle scars.
Sure beats the alternative.
I’m liking The Big C, by the way, although I think credulity is being stretched a bit thin by not having her tell anybody yet but strangers in a support group she spent 5 minutes in. She’s apparently got stage 4 melanoma and has opted not to have treatment.