Any time something has gone wrong in our family, but no one is mortally wounded we get a phone call that starts, "Everything is okay, but..." followed by the story of what happened. The idea is that if you let people know out of the gate that everything is now shiny the bad story that follows will not be so bad.
Everything is okay, but as you know, this is the week of Valentine's so something unforeseen and stressful had to have happened to us. I've been keeping a lid on this year's excitement until I knew the outcome.
This morning I went for my first mammogram followed by an ultrasound. Remember, everything is fine. It seems that my body likes to form lots of harmless, yet very scary, cysts all over that area of my body. I found one and then noticed another, and another, and so last Friday I went to the doctor. She felt what I felt and set up the tests. She was a little more freaked out about them than I would have liked, and was certain at least one biopsy was called for. I have never been so happy to have a doctor be wrong in all my life. The test showed several points of concern, but all of them showed up as obvious cysts on the ultrasound. Those are annoying, but cause no real problems.
Please forgive me if I was a tad preoccupied, gruff, or just plain not around since the 11th. I had a few things on my mind and wasn't sleeping very well. Now I have 364 days to enjoy before Feb. 14th comes around again. Next year is going to have to work hard to top this one, but then again that is what I said last year after Rocky's wreck. Maybe I should start praying now.