Squishy!

They try to make it appealing. Soft music, dim lights, and cozy white robes. I'm not talking about a spa. I'm talking about the Breast Care Center at the local hospital. Every year I go with trepidation. My wonderful mother has fought this rotten cancer twice. I've lost my dear sister-in-law. I have several dear friends that have fought it with all their might. And so I want to go. And today I did. And the music was soft, the lights dim and the robes cozy. And I was nervous. During the manual exam, the nurse tries to be casual and talk about weather and what I do for fun. Then you step up to the GE Medical Systems machine (made right here in Waukesha). Two scans on each side. One of them feels like our garage door came down on my chest. Don't breathe she says. Don't worry, I don't think I can anyway. Whew! It is done. Please wait here until the radiologist looks at your scans before you can get dressed. I'm alone about 5 minutes. I frantically thumb through a "Martha Stewart Living". Her life looks perfect. Nurse returns with a smile. You look perfectly normal and can get dressed. We recommend coming back in another year. Congratulations! I go back and get my clothes out of the locker and head down the hall of the hospital. I feel a tear. I'm blessed again with a good scan. I'm thankful for health and strength. I pass a man in a wheelchair. He looks sad as they push him and his IV pole. Another old lady is sitting there waiting. I'm not sure for what. I feel almost too lucky. And so, today was great. The sun came out.... and I think of those who have abnormal scans where there is a moment in a room where you are told, 'you have cancer'. This time it isn't me. And so I'll rejoice. And I'll think of the very dear ones that are fighting it and hope I can somehow be an encouragement to them.