Monday, August 31, 2015


That was a false alarm.

We just took another set of images.  Apparently my breast wasn't stretched thinly enough on the initial scan, resulting in a fold that resembled a questionable mass on one of the images.  "Stretch away" I told the radiologist.

I physically feel like I am a million years old.  In the span of 72 hours, I went from thinking:

1.  Everything could be fine, this is probably a false alarm, to
2. I am going to lose my final months of ttc because I will need biopsies and scans and perhaps radiation, to
3. Maybe the universe took away my babies because somehow it knew that I would develop breast cancer, to,
4.  Am I going to die in my forties?

I am still trying to bring myself down from the stress.  My husband just divulged that he was "fucking scared out of his mind" - so I guess that even despite my PTSD (I had to visit the same hospital as two of my D&Cs, including my TFMR), I'm not alone in having my mind go to dangerous dark corners.

I want to thank anyone out there who sent me positive energy.   Every bit helps.

Onwards.  After I learn to breathe again. 

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