First, let me say thank you to everyone who posted sweet comments or sent thoughtful emails to me regarding my last post and the passing of my dad. I have received such an outpouring of love, from my "virtual" friends as well as my real life buddies. I am truly blessed.
Secondly, I want to address my follow up visit to the hospital. I realized, after someone asked me about it, that I never finished that story.
As soon as I came home from Arkansas, my husband pushed me to re-schedule the follow up mammogram. I had it done a few days later.
The second scan was followed by an ultra sound. They never said why, and I didn't ask. I remained calm because there was nothing to be done until I heard it all, right?
The ultra sound showed nothing. I had a real doctor do the ultra sound, something that is not always done in the Army. Our Army doctors are taking care of wounded Soldiers, and I understand that. But, this time, I got the expert. He found a spot and said, there it is.. that's the one I'm looking for. Then he said, no, it's just a cyst. Cysts are good, they're not cancer and they don't bother anyone. Those were his words.
He went on to say that because of the density of my breast tissue, I would probably always need a second scan and possibly an ultra sound because it's hard to read it with just a mammogram. I said, that's fine, I'll be happy to have you smash, poke, scan and smear that gel all over the girls to get a good reading.
As for the rest of me, I'm doing as well as can be expected. I'm staying very busy with all my volunteer activities, not to mention my friends and family. I'm planning another trip in a few weeks to visit my mom and help her with some more business stuff and just spend some time with her.
I'm getting on with my life. I'm taking care of my family and other things I'm committed to. That's what my dad would expect. It's what he would have wanted.