Saturday mornings

I love the quiet of an uninterrupted morning, to take my time getting out of my chair, sip my coffee slowly, and ponder what to do with my day free from work responsibilities. What it takes me to though is thinking of my future, what direction I should be taking to reach my goals, what if my decision is wrong and leads me away from it? Then I remember my dream last night, which further makes me appreciate my current state of health and life. In my dream, I had breast cancer. A tumor so large on my left breast you could see it, and I was going to have it removed yet afraid they would take the whole breast or I’d be left disfigured. In the end of the dream, you couldn’t even tell I had surgery. But I was grateful for my life and the time I had on this planet.

My uninterrupted time comes to a close when the dog jumps up on the ottoman demanding to be taken outside to pee, the obnoxious cat is crying and pawing anxiously at the jail cell he must sleep in at night to be let out and go steal what food he can from the other cats who behave at night and enjoy freedom, my coffee is getting cold. So I get up and attend to things that need attending. If you have never experienced the Border collie stare down, consider yourself lucky, it’s highly effective, it’s hypnotizing, it’s how they herd sheep, it’s all in the eyes.  The dog grabs the plastic cat dish from obnoxious cat’s cell and carries it to the living room floor to lick any flavor of last nights dinner from it, then paces around ready for breakfast. It’s time to start our day in her mind, for me to leave for work, only I don’t, so she sits and stares at me. She’s now barking at obnoxious cat, at me, to do something, restless. I want a cigarette and I have none. Thus ends my peaceful Saturday morning. Time to get in the shower, get dressed, and spend some time outside wearing the dog out so I can do all the things I promised myself I’d get done today. I’m betting I get to less than half of my list.


2 Responses to “Saturday mornings”

  1. September 26, 2010 at 8:43 pm

    The funny thing is that when you don’t have breast cancer…you worry about disfigurement when you do have breast cancer you just worry about living because all the other little things just seem somewhat more trivial. Love what you have and the people that make it special.

  2. September 27, 2010 at 7:59 am

    I know all about breast cancer, my aunt and grandmother were both survivors. My aunt had it so long ago that she wasn’t able to get reconstructive surgery until about 6 years ago because of the massive amount of radiation that stayed in her body. She was 35 when she found the first lump which didn’t show up on the mammogram. When they went to remove it, they found 11 more and had to take her whole breast. None of them showed on the mammogram because she had “dense breasts”. She’s fortunate that one lump was close enough to the surface to be found by her husband. My aunt has long term health problems from her ordeal, but she is a survivor and whips out that new breast to show anyone who’ll look.

    I’ve treated patients who were battling for their lives with breast cancer, of all people, I fully understand it’s more than losing a breast. It was just a dream, dreams don’t make sense, they are often silly and superficial. I know I am high risk and it’s always in the back of my mind, and should I have breast cancer, the loss of a boob will still be on my mind despite the fighting for my life I’m sure. It’s part of who I am, just like losing a leg, an arm, or any other body part. It is natural to mourn that loss. If you had penile cancer, you would mourn and worry about that loss because it is part of what makes you a man, just as my breasts make me woman. And that is normal, and very much okay.

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