It's been a whirlwind 36 hours. There's a lot to consider. Everything we've found on the internet applies to women who have 30 years on me. Where do I fit in? Where do WE fit in? My poor husband. He got a defective model.
I mean, I don't feel sick. It's hard to hear your sick, when you feel fine. It's hard to grasp the severity of "cancer" -- when you feel fine. Do I really have cancer? I don't feel like I do. What does it feel like anyhow? All I know is that I have to get a series of appointments done. That's it. That's as far as I can take it. I haven't talked with the surgeons or oncologists yet - so I don't know much more than my results and what the internet tells me that means.
Mike keeps telling me he's surprised at how well I'm taking all of this. I guess I don't really have any other way to take it. I'm not going to die, so anything other than that - is good. There really isn't any other way to look at it. I didn't have a choice in this, so all I can really do it just deal with it as it comes.
So, the next steps are to get a bi-lateral MRI and then have my consults with the surgeons, radiation people, plastic surgeons, etc. and then to pick a team and a course of treatment. Sounds easy enough ...