Even though I look like crap in this picture, it makes me smile because Benny is the biggest cuddle bug when Jeff is on the road. He brings me a lot of comfort even though he’s a stinky dog.

I had a PET scan Monday morning and a breast MRI Monday night. I was expecting to have to wait days for the results because it took that long for my initial scans back in May, but the results were back within 24 hours.

If you’ve never had a PET scan, there isn’t much to it. You fast 6 hours prior and then they give you a radioactive isotope tracer through your IV, or in my case a port. You sit for an hour and then they pop you into this donut-shaped machine and run you through it taking images from mid-thigh to skull.

A breast MRI is akin to torture. They hook you up to a long line that connects to your IV or port then you lay face down with your breasts deposited into two individual boxes just a dangling into thin air. There is a slim plastic piece that you can uncomfortably rest your sternum on. Your arms are above your head and most of your torso weight is on your ribcage right below your diaphragm. Your arms fall asleep within minutes but you have to hold perfectly still.

The machine makes screeching robot noises so they ask you if you want to listen to a particular artist, or genre through their headphones so you’re more comfortable. For my first breast MRI I chose 80’s music, because I don’t listen to it often and I didn’t want to have a negative association with some artist or music that I really love. As I was whisked into the MRI machine the screaming began. No. Not me. Not the machine either. The screaming was coming from my headphones. Screams and growls were echoing in the headphones but no music. I thought to myself, this is already terrible enough what fresh Hell is this? About a minute into it I realized it was the beginning of Michael Jackson’s Thriller. It made me chuckle afterwards.

For this most recent MRI I chose Garth Brooks, because life is short and I’d like to enjoy my 20 minutes of torture to the extent that I can. I was hoping for Two Pina Coladas, or Friends in Low Places. Something upbeat. The first song they played was If Tomorrow Never Comes. I cried into my uncomfortable face stand. But that was just the first live version of the song. The playlist played it two more times during the ordeal. When they went to inject the contrast through the line it failed. So they had to start the whole exam over again.

Anyway, the scans came back with good news. The two masses in my breast have shrunk significantly. One armpit lymph node has resolved completely and the other lymph node has shrunk moderately. The lesion in my shoulder bone has shrunk and is less active, meaning it’s not growing at the rate that it was. Radiation should take care of the bone lesion, that’s the idea anyway.

I see my surgeon tomorrow. I’m eager to hear her opinion. In the beginning she wanted to do a double mastectomy with full lymph node removal on my left side. My oncologist suggested now that the masses have shrunk, just a lumpectomy. I’m not sure how I feel about that. When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, and before it was upped to stage 4 I was in mourning over the removal of my breasts. Then when they found the cancer in my bone I decided they could take whatever they have to in exchange for more years with my loved ones. If amputating my right arm would rid me of the cancer I would have done it. But that’s not how it works with cancer in bones. So you’d think now that a lumpectomy might be an option I’d be happy about it and jump at the chance to keep my natural breasts…as old gray mare as they are, they’re still mine.

So much of my identity as a woman feels like it’s been taken already. My hair is gone and it has really affected how I feel about myself. I know it will grow back, but right now I feel like a non-person. I look sick and people notice and then avert their eyes. Some hold my gaze and smile at me. I don’t really blame people. No one instinctively knows how to treat someone with cancer, or a birth defect, or a visible disability. Unless you have loved someone or talked extensively with someone that has experienced these things you may be uncomfortable, or just unsure with how to navigate contact.

I have a real sense of betrayal with my breasts. You who nourished my children and helped them grow and develop, how dare you malfunction now that your purpose has been served! I feel like saying, “Who needs you guys anyways?” The surgeon made clear the first time we met that there is no difference in longevity when you compare those who have had a lumpectomy vs. a mastectomy. So in my oncologist’s eyes why choose the more difficult surgery and recovery when I can just choose a lumpectomy. I wouldn’t have to deal with reconstruction surgery, etc. And I already have stage 4 cancer. The likelihood that it will pop up elsewhere in my body is already there. Removing both breasts won’t make my stage 4 cancer go away. On the other hand, it will remove two places it could come back in. The peace of mind might be worth it. Anyway, I guess we’ll see what is decided at tomorrow’s appointment.

A picture of my Payton girl. She and her boyfriend went to the lantern festival in Tooele. The pictures were beautiful. She’s beautiful. Before my hair grows back she really wants me to get a henna tattoo on my scalp. I’m not convinced.

Ava first started talking about living in France after she graduated high school in her junior year. She took French all 4 years of high school and got her seal of bi-literacy. A program called Andego offered her the chance to live in France with a host family and tutor English. Yesterday she did it! She got on a plane and flew to France. I’m so proud she has the courage to follow her dreams. She will be gone for 3 months tutoring the host family’s two children. She is living just outside of Bordeaux. She has face-timed me twice today and tears were shed. Even though she is homesick and definitely sleep-deprived, she’ll find her way. She’s always been a person who thrives with a schedule. As soon as she has one she will be just fine.