Square Peg ● Round Hole

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 Just like any other day, I was busy scheduling homes for the column that I write for my local paper.   I embrace the ability to go to work in my pajamas and chat with my four legged coworkers.  There is usually no drama, until my Basset Hound, Daisy, decides to chase one of the cats.  Then, I received an expected call that tested my faith.

 A year ago, I went to my OB/GYN for my annual checkup which, because I am 45, included a mammogram.   Routine by far, since there is no history in my family and I had been doing this since I was 40.  I say routine, but there is nothing routine about some stranger molding your breast like it was silly putty.  I often want to ask exactly what they are trying to form out of my breast, but I don’t.   Reminds me of when I brought home a clay creation for my mother in first grade and she smiled and told me she loved it.  Of course, she never attempted to even guess, so that was the answer to my artistic ability.   Here I go, digressing, which probably will happen a lot, so you have been warned.

 Anyway, I received a phone call from my doctor’s office.  The woman’s voice at the other end was calming and almost hypnotic.   She stated that the radiologist had seen that the tissue in my right breast was not symmetrical.  I really wanted to say, “Lady, nothing in my body is symmetrical,” but I let it go.   Further testing was required.  Her explanation rolled off of her tongue like a telemarketer selling insurance.   Her tone was so soothing I would have definitely bought something from her.  She gave me the information of where and what time my tests would take place.   I really didn’t have the heart to tell her that the time and day didn’t really work for me, so I figured this was serious enough to cancel my other obligations.   She seemed concerned that I wasn’t concerned.   Asking over and over again if I had any questions and assuring me that this doesn’t mean I have cancer.  After hanging up, I questioned why I wasn’t freaking out.   Where was the fear?   Where was my projecting into the future where I am dead and my family goes on without me?   I thought, well, maybe later.

 Everyone’s reaction to uncomfortable news varies.  Some tell you it is no big deal.  They have been through it and it was fine.  Others, affirm you, by simply listening.  And still others, make it about them.    My husband wanted to take the whole day off to be with me.   Sweet, but no.   Sometimes, a girl has do things on her own.  This was one of them.     The process was simple and almost robotic, but in the end, it was revealed that my breast tissue was dense.   I realized, that sometimes, that is not the only thing that is dense.  Humor, another one of my coping mechanisms.

    It is easy for me to see what is wrong in my life, but by shifting my perception, I can see all the good in my life.   I have found that blessings  have come to me by walking the path and doing the next right thing.  Acceptance doesn’t have to be graceful.   Most days I stumble, fall, and kick acceptance because I am in self will.   Life is simple, I am the one who can complicate things.  For today, all is well.