Thinking positive only leads to disappointment

Though I was looking forward to my 27th birthday, I felt a bit of hesitation because of the fear that history was bound to repeat itself.


Nonetheless, I was thinking positive yesterday evening. My mom was on her way to New York to spend the weekend with me, I was set to sing lead female vocals in a cover band, Brent made reservations at a secret locale for a dinner that he said I was bound to love, and a bunch of my friends were meeting me at the bar for a mini birthday party and my singing debut.

That's when I felt it. As I was soaping up in the shower, I my fingers grazed over something that I hadn't noticed before: A lump in my breast. Panicked, I started running my fingers over the same area - about an inch beneath my armpit - on the other side hoping to find a similar lump that would tell me that it's supposed to be there that would relieve me of my fears that this might be something to worry about. I didn't.


So I lept out of the shower, and very nearly streaked into the living room toward a very surprised Brent to ask him if he could feel something weird or if it was just my imagination. He felt it too, and so did my mom, who was also a bit surprised to arrive in New York to a "Hi, Mom! Good to see you! Could you do me a favor and feel my boob?"

Now this is me, and I have what can only be described as an exceptionally vivid imagination. This can be cool because my dreams are almost always wild and creative, and last the entire night. Yet it can also be a curse. Because they're so vivid, I sometimes confuse reality from what my mind has created while I was sleeping. And at least a few times a year, I'll have a serious nightmare that I wake up from screaming or crying or gasping for breath. I hate having to fall asleep after those because my dreams will weirdly pick up from where they left off when I woke up.

So of course after finding the lump and agreeing with my mom that I need to make a doctor's appointment, I went to sleep and dreamt of that horrific conversation some people have with their doctors where they learn that they have six months to live. The difference was, that person wasn't just someone on a commercial or in a movie. That person was me.

So while I was at work the next day, my mom being my mom looking out for her daughter called and made an appointment with my OB-GYN to have it looked at. The soonest emergency appointment they have? FOUR days from now. Crap. Looks like I have a bunch more sleepless nights ahead of me!