Three efficient March 10th appointments - with surgeon, breast care coordinator nurse, and volunteer who had breast cancer 22 years ago with a few freebies including little pillows for the car ride home after surgery. Decided with surgeon to take it one step at the time. Need to schedule surgery date in the next few days. Apparently they expect to have openings in about 2 to 3 weeks, or after week 4 to accommodate our little trip. Do the breast conservation surgery to remove lumpy and a few sentinel nodes to check for lumpy’s friends. Apparently I will be injected with radioactive material. I hope I remember to check if I have any X-Men powers then. Within 7 days after surgery, results will be out. That, will be the next tipping point.

Meantime, more inspiration from passionate pioneers.
On the clues Nature has left us, and the amazing normality of most of our 10 to 70 trillion cells:
https://www.ted.com/talks/mina_bissell_experiments_that_point_to_a_new_understanding_of_cancer?language=en

Could your medicine be a cell, not a pill?:
https://www.ted.com/talks/siddhartha_mukherjee_soon_we_ll_cure_diseases_with_a_cell_not_a_pill?language=en

I think mortality's reminder drew me to these, and nudged me to participate:
https://www.ted.com/talks/stephen_friend_the_hunt_for_unexpected_genetic_heroes?language=en

https://www.ted.com/talks/john_wilbanks_let_s_pool_our_medical_data?language=en

https://www.ted.com/talks/jay_bradner_open_source_cancer_research?language=en

http://resilienceproject.me/

http://sharethejourneyapp.org/ (if i get an iPhone)

Gallows humor. And lots of great practical advice.

http://www.butdoctorihatepink.com/

It’s just the waiting now. Waiting on the next medical appointment. The initial burst of curiosity and investigative impulses, in the age of google, can go pretty wild, cancerously wild. Seems like two obvious paths ahead. Best case, remove lumpy, check around and look for other suspects, finding none, declare safe zone, just return in 6 months. Worst case, lumpy has lots of friends and they are partying all over the place, making a huge mess. Massive clean up has to be ordered. The place is a fixer, it may even be a tear down. I doubt it’ll be a such a bad fixer it has to be labeled tear down. But we won’t know till during and after the surgery. And I won’t know about a date for the surgery until after March 10. And we are going to Hawaii on March 30th. I am not going to change the plans for Hawaii. Either case, it will make no difference. Either lumpy has no friends or it has friends, another couple of weeks will not make a huge difference.

Instead of friends, I should use the Borg analogy. Lumpy is a Borg ship. Makes for a more realistic metaphor because lumpy is not one entity, it’s a collective, bent on assimilating other living organisms into its gross mutated existence. A collective of parasites that have hitched a ride with me. And this humanoid does not mind being a vessel for other living beings on this journey exploring life. I am already hosting God knows millions of organism in and on me. But for a parasite to come crash our party and take it over, that’s not cool. We will not be taking it sitting down. We must destroy the Borg.

It was a good hike yesterday. A weekly workout to keep up the hiking muscles for the 6 peak challenge we’ve signed up for. My muscles were just fine, and the breathing regulated itself well. It was just will power that wavered. At 3 hours, it took longer than it usually does. Thoughts about the uncertainty ahead is energy sapping. I have stepped up my daily exercise routine. Built-in a few more minutes with weights. Also been pill-popping additional vitamins and supplements, and staying away from my beloved sweets. Preparing the troops for the battle ahead.

There is something about familiarity.  One gets used to things as they are and one gets comfortable. I have lived with this body for 46 years now, I’m used to it, I even like it most days. Jokes about my tiny breasts don’t make me cringe. I like my tight fit looking little boobs. They make me look athletic, I think. So that’s my self image, an athlete, though I’m not really one anymore. A nature lover too. One who likes few things more than being out there and feeling the freedom and belonging of being one with nature, whether that was with windsurfing then or hiking now. I am not totally comfortable with add-ons, accessories and fussy extras. I have to take off all add-ons, including the wedding ring, when I go to bed. I hate wearing bras. I see them only as a necessary nuisance to be socially acceptable. Can’t have those tits showing. Would have been great if the bra burning feminists managed to turn that fad into a boring norm. So why then do I get emotional at the thought of losing a breast or two? Wouldn’t that solve the bra problem? Wouldn’t that lead to a whole new level of freedom? How much worse would the emotional weakness have been if I had a different self image? One of a sexy, cleavage-showing lady in CFM stilettos. I can’t imagine. It’s a self-defensive thought. It’s all relative. The Keep Calm and Carry On sticker stares me in the face.