Mountain Countenance

I went with my friend to the oncologist to hear what the pathology report said after her lumpectomy.  It was a different experience to be the support person and not the patient, and I was overwhelmed with how grateful I am that I have family and friends to support me. It was a gift to go with her and offer my ears and understanding.  As we were sitting across from the Dr with his desk piled high with important papers and his walls covered with art from patients and his own photographs, I remembered how hard it was to wrap my head around the many scenarios of "IF this Then...." or "If this Then....".  Whether to have a second surgery to get clean margins or to have a mastectomy and remove the habitat.  He said more information is needed so he will send her tumor sample for the Onkatype DX test.  This expensive test compares your tumor markers with a data base of others to give you a risk score from 1-100 and  can help you decide whether you will choose Chemotherapy or not. I had a low score and choose to skip Chemo.  How lucky I felt 2.5 years ago and how I hope and pray she gets a low score...(plus she has beautiful hair :)  But when discussing the rates of recurrence and the probability of having it return in her bones or my brain, let alone a breast, I was reminded that Breast Cancer can kill me and now her. I know that sounds silly, because we all know women who left behind small children and great lives because their breast cancer went out of control, and we all know how a crazy gunman can take away your life with no notice, but it reminds me of the daily challenge to live in the present yet plan for the future. I am oh so grateful to have made it past my 53rd birthday and past my son's 17th and 10th birthdays.  Each day is a gift, yet I forget and get angry because the house is a mess or lights were left on.

This painting is from last year, Strong Like A Mountain, and I realized in the Oncologist office, that I can let the wind sway me, the water move me, the sun warm me, but let the mountain remind me that I am not going anywhere anytime soon.