Today went as follows:  Attended 8 am meeting at Clarkston and then went to Starbucks with Colleen, who I adore.  Then I met Lori, who I also adore, for lunch.  For this afternoon’s entertainment, Trent and I went to a plastic surgeon’s office to discuss what will become of my left breast.  It probably goes without saying that the morning’s activities were much more enjoyable than the afternoon’s.  On the bright side, today is the first time in my life that a doctor was able to look at me topless and say OUT LOUD that I have very pretty breasts without having to fear any kind of legal repercussion.  The irony of this hasn’t been lost on me.  I mean it feels a tad late for the world at large to start outwardly commenting on the beauty of my bosom.  I was not at all complimented or comforted by the comment.  In fact, it made me cry because I can’t hang on to my breast based on its sheer beauty unless I am committed to the idea of DYING for such beauty.  The information is almost too much to take in and when I look at the whole picture, I do panic.  The trauma of this experience is on the forefront of the minds of all the doctors, nurses, etc., that I have seen.  The kindness and empathy is as palpable as the lump that brought me to them.  I am grateful for the compassion.  

I am home now and Trent and I are going to have a nice dinner and relax.  He brought me roses and a magazine about weddings.  I may be broken-breasted but I am hardly broken-hearted.