Scary

Both kids chose a camp to participate in during the same week this summer.  The plan was for me to work a few days and have a little "Katy Time" while they did something they were passionate about.

Cally chose to do a musical theater camp at the Flynn Theater.  The week was to be spent preparing for a Frozen Pilot.  While a little nervous to be there the first day, she loved it immediately.  She got the role as young Anna and she felt challenged by learning her lines, getting off script, singing, and learning some dance moves.

Hazen choose to do a "real" rock climbing camp.  He wanted to be outside, not inside.  Metrorock had a great camp, but it was for kids ages 8-14.  I was able to convince the manager of the club to let him in because he was a little over 7 and a half.   I was pretty sure Hazen would be great as long as he had positive older role models.  He had a great time.  He climbed, he caved, he did via ferrata, hiked, and swam.  And he slept well when he got home.  

Meanwhile, my "Katy Time" was thrown a curveball.  The previous week, I'd gotten a last minute appointment for a mammogram.  It had been over a year and a half and I'd recently gotten the news that another good friend from high school was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Upon leaving my appointment, the nurse said they'd call within 5 days if they had any concerns, otherwise they'd send me a letter.  It having been six days since the appointment, I assumed I was clear, but I was wrong. I got the call in the middle of the morning on Monday that there were a few spots of concern on my image. 

This news hit me like a ton of bricks.  I had had a call back after my first mammogram, so I knew that this was usually just a precautionary measure, but it still rattled me.  It took me a half hour to get in touch with the mammography scheduling nurse.  She said she could get me in for a follow up imaging on Tuesday, but couldn't get the secondary ultrasound on the same day.  I'd need to come in on Wednesday, too.  Otherwise, she had both on the the same day the following week.  I grabbed the two separate appointments because I needed to get to the bottom of this. 

I was on the phone with John in tears.  He, of course, grounded me and reminded me that I'd be just fine, told me he'd go to all appointments, and offered to come home and give me a hug. 

Then I jumped on my bike and rode and cried.  I wasn't ready to be done being a mom.  I wasn't done raising my kids.  I wasn't done on this planet.  I cried for Melinda, my high school friend who didn't get to see her kids grow up, I cried for everyone I know who has had cancer, I cried for mortality.  I cried because I really, really like my life right now.

My phone rang half way into my ride.  It was my dad.  I normally don't pick up the phone when I'm riding, but I needed this.  John had called him to tell him what had happened.  The thoughtfulness of these two amazing men in my life made me cry harder.  I am so lucky to have the most sensitive and caring husband and father.  Neither of them made me feel crazy for worrying, but they also made me feel like I was going to be just fine.  

I had plans to meet Claire for lunch and felt like I needed that more than ever.  Of course, John had texted her to tell her about my scare.  She, too, was another amazing pillar of support that I so needed.  It reminded me of how fortunate I am to have so many great friends.  

When I picked up the kids, I suddenly felt less bothered by the little things they were doing.  I thought twice before scolding them about not picking up after themselves.  I gave them bigger hugs. 

John and I made a date out of my first appointment.  We met for lunch and then walked over to the hospital.  It turns out men aren't allowed beyond the outside waiting room at the Breast Center.   The way it works is the nurse takes you back for a second scan, has you wait in an interior waiting room (women only), and then they bring you into a living room style conference room. 

The nurse said the radiologist felt better about this scan, but that I still needed to come back for an ultrasound the next day.  I felt so much better, but still needed to get the second test behind me. 

Everything was fine after Wednesdays appointment and they said I didn't need to come back for a year.  I felt such a sense of relief.  I have more time to raise my kids, make the best of each day, and work towards my goal of making the world a little bit better (still not exactly sure how). 

So, I didn't get the productive week of working and riding bikes that I had hoped for, but I got a heavy dose of reality which put a lot of things in perspective.  I like to think I live for the moment and make the best of most days, but this reminded me to Carpe Diem just a little bit more.