Inching Foward

Day after day is spent driving to medical appointments. I meet my surgeon and her staff, my oncologist and his staff, am referred to a plastic surgeon for reconstruction, and a psychologist, to make sure I’m holding it together. I have a chest MRI and a mammogram on a breast still very sore from being cored like an apple. I have x-rays and blood panels drawn. I have genetic testing performed.

The early weeks amount to putting one foot in front of the other and showing up at appointment after appointment.
I am not coping or processing. I am simply inching forward into the battle.

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