Spilled cheerios

Nothing like a good, old fashioned breast cancer scare to make life a tiny bit more dramatic. With a family history of breast cancer, I felt it was only smart to get a mammogram after I turned 35. I'm sure it's probably nothing but they need a more detailed mammogram of an area in question - one week before I move out of my home state.

When I'm feeling sorry for myself, which is unfortunately too often these days, it's hard not to laugh at how ridiculous my life has been over the past few years. From twin babies, hospital stays, an ovarian cancer scare and subsequent surgery, the death of my grandmother, putting our house on the market, 52 showings, packing the house up and the emotional ramifications of my moving away from my family, I thought that perhaps I had had enough doo doo thrown my way but apparently not. One thing that I have learned is that my childhood idea of an easy life has evaporated into a stressful, amazing, insane, wonderful, nutso life and the best way to enjoy the best parts are to push my way through the crummy ones.

So, today I go in for the second mammogram. Although they reassure me that it's probably nothing, it's not easy for my mind not to go down the path of what if they're wrong. I'm waiting for them to prove the negative - that I don't have cancer - but until then I have keep on packing, pick up spilled cheerios and wait for the results.