Living-Deliberately.com

Sorry folks, there is just no straight-faced way to describe a mammogram. There I was, staring at the possibity of breast cancer at 32, and there is nothing to do but chuckle and hold your breath when the lady says so. So they flatten the thing out (not unlike how a toddler can stretch to see the car going around the corner and nurse at the same time actually) and tell you not to move. Then you go sit in waiting room number 5 while the nice doctor reads your results immediately and there ya go….no cancer. No cysts either. Just beautiful normalacy. It’s fine by me to be plain and average!

In truth, it was a very nice way to spend a few hours. The Breast Center here is new and gorgeous…gold leaf wallpaper, women in art everywhere, ample magazines, nice robes…a bit like a spa actually. Well, except for that pancake part. But that was surprisingly painless and it was nice to sit and watch home decorating TV and magazines on winter entertaining and not once see a cardboard box or hear bickering and fighting.

Now the day is done, the cicadas (they even have them here but so far, not nearly as loud as the FL variety) are out there scratching, and the kids are watching some special on Physics on PBS. We were suposed to have lentils for supper tonight but when I said as much, they all moaned and groaned and sounded otherwise ungrateful. NO WAY am I raising little unthankful monsters and so I went on a dinner strike.

Not a popular choice. One child, completely derailed by change in routine, fumed that it was “my job to make his dinner”. Well, yes…but I”m no short order cook at his demand. Another said, “fine, I’m never eating again anyway”. The other just sat and tried to talk me out of the choices I laid out. They could have: leftover potatoes and hamburger gravy, a sandwich, or a bowl of cereal. So no one was starving. But the drama… my word.

When Dad got home I took my tired self for a walk to the store and then made him a fried egg sandwich. Never will I make one of these as good as my dad does, but my version is at least pretty decent. Or at least David says so ;-). He’s never had one of my dad’s. Everyone’s attitude is adjusted and they are all cozy on bean bags and blankets. it’s a beautiful thing; just beautiful normalacy and I”m thankful for it.

Maybe it’s a bit like those times when you don’t want nuts in your chocolate…just plain, pure chocolate please. Plain is good

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