News About My Twin

They actually gave me a hospital bracelet when I went in for the bibopsy. Evidence that I was an admitted patient, if only for 45 minutes. Bibopsy was Thursday. They called me Friday afternoon with the results of the test.

It's benign! It's a fibro-adenoma, as they suspected. And this fibro-adenoma is apparently harmless and needs no treatment. I really can't express how much of a load off my mind that is. Thanks for thoughts and prayers that were sent my way. I really appreciate it.

The Bibopsy

I went in to the get my bibopsy today. First, I'd just like to say --people who work at breast care centers (which is where I went for my bibopsy) are INCREDIBLY nice. They treat you like they are just delighted to see you and then they cradle you in sweetness. Seriously. I wonder how they keep it up with every patient who walks in. But I like it.

So, I changed into the very awkward gown that they give you at this place (I wore it for the mammogram too). It's like any hospital gown except the tie is in the front, thus risk of exposure is from a VERY different angle. Sitting in their waiting room, I am in danger of exposing myself to random other people who may be in the waiting room pretty much the entire time. This subsequently makes it very hard for me to focus on whatever article I am reading in whatever random magazine I picked up.  

So, for this bibopsy they wanted four tissue samples. I got to watch everything on an ultrasound screen, which I was riveted by. They took this needle and kinda punched at the mass. It mechanically sounded like a powered stapler and I imagine it functioned like a harpoon-equipped whole punch. It punched out a piece of tissue in the mass and then it punched back out of the mass with said tissue. It didn't hurt. But it kind of reverberated in my chest. I wasn't expecting it to be quite that violent of a process (violent in the most gentle sense of the word). 

After the doctor got all the tissue she wanted, she put a piece of metal in there, to mark that they've "been there". They have promised me repeatedly that this little piece of titanium will not set off metal detectors. Heaven forbid if this causes me to get felt up every time I go to the airport. 

They patched me up afterwards  (it was only a 1/8 inch incision so they essentially put a band-aid on it that I have to wear for a week). Then they said I needed to keep ice on it for 15 minutes of every hour for the next day --- at which point, I said, "I'm sorry. You want me to put an ice pack where?"

It made it better when they prescribed that I eat chocolate and watch movies for the rest of the night.

The real comedy was AFTER. I had to stick the ice pack in my bra and then return to work because I had  training session with a guy from the finance dept. on our financial software. And while the ice pack is somewhat small, it's large enough that it makes the girls a little, uh,.. well, you can imagine. I wasn't quite sure what to do about the situation, so I hoped that my clothes (loose shirt and cardigan) made that general area relatively inconspicuous so that said guy from finance would take no notice. Yes. You read that right. I knowingly walked into a meeting with a man who didn't know me from Adam, with sigificantly disproportionate girls, and said nothing, Now that I think back on this, I picture this thing having happened on an episode of the Carol Burnett show or I Love Lucy. Sometimes, life is just funny.

"Yes. Inside the lump was my twin."

Today, my life reminded me of this scene. And it appears they have found my twin.

Truth be told, I went in for a mammogram. It was not as awful as I've heard it would be, but I will concede that I was technically uncomfortable. Who really ENJOYS having their boobs compressed into pancakes? ... I didn't think so.

I notices something amiss back in December. I kind of figured it was nothing. A mass. But nothing. Web MD said so, so that's pretty reliable right? Just kidding.  Considering my family history, and despite my high confidence in diagnosing myself over the internet, I thought it would be prudent to have a professional make a final determination before I cease thinking about it completely.

My first appointment resulted in the doctor also being pretty sure it's nothing, but "considering my family history" they'll ask for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound.

So I was in there today with all their imaging equipment... and the technician... and the doctor. I was lying on a table, looking around at drapery meant to give me privacy. There were pretty, serene pictures on the wall juxtaposed against a very clinical setting. And suddenly, it felt a little different. I wasn't really worried about it before. But now, I'm thinking, "I have a mass". They keep referring to my "mass". They keep investigating this "mass". Compounded by my surroundings it hits me: "I do not think it means what you think it means." (name that movie)

As I sat there I was wondering, "Exactly how often should I anticipate having this view?" I wanted to tell them that their pretty panels on the ceiling with the garden scenery are a nice gesture, but I'm not fooled. "You have failed to mentally transport me to anything that could be confused with a vacation destination."

So far, everyone else agrees that they're pretty sure it's nothing. "Awesome. I was 99% it was nothing too." Sadly, the doctor lacks my level of confidence and only gave me a 98% but, all things considered, I'll happily take it. And I have decided to rename the mass "my twin".

I am writing this post not so much to warn you all that I might be dying (I seriously doubt it), and more so because I'm totally bemused at how something that seemed relatively benign (Admit it. I'm hilarious) suddenly became disturbing and alarming just because professionals acknowledging what I already knew and subsequently made me sit in a medical examination room.

I go for the bibopsy in a couple weeks, so we can all be a little more certain about our suspicions. I'll let you know how it goes -- whether it be my evil twin or just a sweet little companion I get to carry around forever. Maybe they will discover it to has teeth. And a spinal cord. ;)

Recent Beauty Quirks & Obsessions

Believe it or not, this is  a picture of my nails. My nail obsession over the past several months (whenever I actually do my nails ) is to paint my right ring finger a different color. Trendy? Maybe. Incredibly fun? For sure. Serviceable to my tendency of not being able to choose between colors? You better believe it.

I also gave myself a fashion New Year's Resolution: to wear at least one accessory every day. I always think that people who wear accessories look very put together. And yet, I often find that I don't want to wear them because I feel like they can be distracting or overwhelming. But really, how can one accessory be overwhelming? I'm one month in and so far so good. This resolution might be a keeper.

The Dead Man's Cell Phone That Almost Was

I was really looking forward to getting back into the theater after I finished my MBA. I needed a for fun hobby, ya know? Reclaim some of the fun and whimsy that I used to have. But I couldn't commit to much while we were job searching.

We've been settled down in West Bend for a couple months, so I started to look for play auditions. And I found one! In my home town! So I went.

They were reading for a play I'd never heard of before -- "Dead Man's Cell Phone". As I watched the scenes unfold during the auditions, I thought it was quite funny, but overall I was surprised it was as edgy as it was. We are still in West Bend, WI, right? Well, it's just an audition. I'll just have fun with it.

Then the director called and he offered me the lead role. Seriously?! I've never been a lead role before. It was surreal. Of course, I didn't lose myself completely. I told him I had some reservations with the script. But he said he was editing the script somewhat to take the edge off.

So, I came in for a reading. And I thought the changes might make it ok enough to do the play. So, I said yes.

But there were a couple of things that never seemed quite resolved. For one thing, my character kisses a couple of people. Not surprisingly, this fact seems to cause my husband a fair amount of discomfort. For another thing, I still have a line where I drop several 4 letter words, even WITH editing. And there's a monologue about sex from another character. It's not SUPER explicit. But it's not PG either.

Safe to say, it's not a family play. And I kept thinking  back to Elder Oaks' talk, Good Better, Best. My first thought in reconciling the concerns I had about the script, was to think, "It's not that bad." And there it was. Not that bad. The best I could say for it was "it's not that bad."

I was in denial for a little while -- four days and one rehearsal, to be exact. And then I came to my senses and called the director this morning to tell him I couldn't do it. He was gracious enough to offer to edit some more, but I knew that there was no amount of editing that was going to make this play content I could do and really apply Elder Oaks' counsel.

I'm not gonna lie. I'm a little heart-broken. And I'm not really sure my standards are as rigid and high as I just set them. But they always say you're supposed to experiment. So this time, I'm experimenting with erring on the side of caution. So long, lead role. So long doing a play this spring, now that I've gone and missed all the other auditions.

This seems like a very petty thing. And yet, it really kinda hurts. As life does, I guess. To be sure, this will find it's way into a YW lesson in my near future.

Did You Really Just Do That??

Ok, so I am a bit of a feminist. And this word has never made me uncomfortable -- mostly because I'm oblivious to a lot of negative connotations and caricatures people associate with it. At the same time, it's not among the top 10 adjectives I use to describe me. But I may gain a reputation as such shortly, because I have taken issue with something. And I feel compelled to speak up.

So, a member of the bishopric in our new ward called Ben and I out of class on Sunday.  He asked Ben to come in the office and requested I wait outside for a few minutes.All is fine so far.

When he called me in to join them, I was informed that I was waiting outside so he could talk to my husband about whether it was ok to extend a calling to me. And, mind you, not a very extensive calling. And suddenly ...

Wha???? Just a moment. What's that sound I hear? Ah, yes. It's the sixties. They'd like their policy back.

I've been going over it in my head since the meeting (during which I said nothing about it). But I just can't comprehend. I had no idea that when I became a married woman that I lost my ability to make adult decisions. And did they tell my husband before he signed the marriage certificate that he would have to bear the responsibility of both spouse and parental consent-giver?

Consult with him about a calling? Yes. Ask for his support? Yes. Involve him in the discussion? Yes. Even want his approval? I do. But ask for his permission? BEFORE asking me? You betta check yo'self.

Am I the only one who thinks this protocol is totally absurd? When I later mentioned to Ben that I was taken aback by it, he had a bit of a laugh and said, "I thought that would bother you." And then he kind of brushed it aside with a, "Well, maybe it's just part of the culture up here." Culture. Is that what they're calling it? No. I like these people enough to presume that "sexism" is not their "culture."

It's not something that was done in my last ward. Thank GOODNESS. And I don't hold it against any of the bishopric members personally for following protocol (I'm assuming that's what it was), But rather than just let it slide, I feel like I need to tell them all the many reasons I don't believe it's appropriate and make them aware that it's backwards. Brand me a feminist as you must. But I'm thinking I prefer saying something and wearing that label than the alternative -- not saying something and periodically being mistaken for Ben's property or his dependent child.

Renovation Project Numero Uno: The Bathroom

what my future bathroom will look as cool as

Moving into the house, it has taken a long time to figure out where to start. We're 1.5 months into owning and living in the new place and, I must confess, I haven't done much. Or bought much. The house is still incredibly empty in most rooms. Including our living room!! In my defense, I was only not working for 1 week, so I really just have nights and weekends to make progress (and initially, there was a lot o' shoppin' to do for some basics. Like groceries. And towels.). Nonetheless, I would have thought I'd be farther along than I am right now.

I finally did settle on where to start --- the main floor bathroom. And after much wasted time and mental energy, I think I have finally found my way to the beginning of this renovation (who knew making decisions on finishings and colors was so difficult?).

The turning point was picking something I really wanted in the bathroom. This is the piece that I can then focus everything else around. The piece I have chosen is........ the shower curtain. I knew I wanted a super ruffly curtain. I ended up getting this one:

I already have it hanging in my otherwise very bare and not so great-looking bathroom. Using this color spectrum as my base point, I believe I have found my wall paint color. A light, lime-y spring green that is along the lines of the upper tiers of color on the shower curtain. I'm hoping I have it right this time as I already failed with paint swatch testing twice. You can see my nice art/test marks below.

Do those swatches remind anyone else of basement cinder blocks? I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, even though I think I might have made a better selection this time, I'm not going to do anything rash. I have an appointment with the consultant at the Sherwin Williams paint shop on Thursday, in case he needs to inform me I'm making a tragic mistake.

Here is another shot of the ho-hum bathroom:

And another, just to make sure you get the full picture:

This project is more than about paint, of course. And I'm sure you'll agree from the pictures, the space could do with some major improvements. Technically, I could do virtually ANYTHING in there. But I need to not overwhelm myself, so I've decided to start small, investing in some nice finishings.

For example, along with painting the walls, I plan to have some fun with the light fixtures. There is an ugly bath fan/light that is not necessary since this bathroom has a window (and will be rarely used anyway). I'm totally getting a cool light fixture to welcome people with visual awesomeness right when they walk in. I'm getting cuter lighting for over the mirror as well.  Lighting's important.

And about that mirror. I'm debating on whether to frame the mirror to class it up, or just replace it with a collage of lots of cute little mirrors. The collage could be artsy overkill. But the frame is gonna be a huge craft project, which may or may not look cute, since I'd be doing it. : p

Along with attending to the mirror, the walls and the light fixture, if it doesn't make it look too busy I'm going to buy cute covers for the light switches and electrical outlets. I may also replace the doorknob.

And then after that, it's gravy with the decor, towel rack, etc.

If after those minor redo's, I'm not satisfied, then I start to consider painting the cabinets & giving them hardware, crown molding, painting the base boards white or getting new base boards, adding tile to the wall, wall paper on the ceiling...

You can see how good I am at overwhelming myself. I'll keep you posted as it progresses. Crossing my fingers that it turns out to be fabulous!!!

Shopping. Or Not

So, we bought a house!!! I'm really excited. Since being married, we have been cooped up in small-space apartment living. And now we are going to have TONS of space. I cannot wait to sprawl out and enjoy our roomy digs.

I can hardly wait to move in. I am going to creatively explode all over our home once it's officially ours. Ben may subsequently explode, although in a more literal fashion, as he seems to think all of my creative ideas for interior design are foreign and, subsequently, tragic. It could be one big explosion after the other. Let's hope the house (and the couple) survives the impact.

Oddly enough, Ben and I made a point of getting RID of stuff for our move. This was in an effort to not pay to move crap we don't really need/want, and in an effort to not own stuff like that. :) But the funniness of the concept comes in as the two of us realize we have enough stuff to furnish the basement of our home (maybe) and that's about it.

As we're up-sizing, this new home makes us (and our stuff) seem very downsized by comparison. For some reason I really like that. And it's possible this relishing of downsized-ness and downsizing won't stop at the furniture.

We have had our stuff in storage for the last month and half. Along with our furnishing, kitchen supplies, books, etc, this also means about 1/2 (at least) of our wardrobes are also inaccessible and in storage. And, believe it or not, I kinda like it. This is a very unlikely conclusion for a girl like me to come to. It's dangerous to say it, really. Good thing Ben doesn't read my blog.

To put things in perspective, I'll admit that I have limited needs for a wardrobe since we have moved to the land of Wisconsin. I telecommute to work from my couch, don't have parties to attend, ya know ... it's been kinda low-key. So maybe it's a false indicator. And, as a result, I promise not to do anything rash or prematurely brand this as my life-long mantra for wardrobes. This is more just perusing an observation of the current state of things and hypothesizing about it's implications for the future. And so far, from what I can tell, there have been perks to having less stuff in my closet. While there is the downside of having fewer options, I find that I am more creative in putting those options together and less flustered when I look at my closet. And this seems to outshine the downside. So maybe less is more?

Have I lost my mind in Wisconsin? Well, maybe. But maybe not. I also have fewer shoes right now. In addition to some being in storage, I permanently parted with a third of my shoe collection before we even left Ohio because the shoes weren't worth bringing along (they either injured my feet or were so dinged up and worn out that the needed to be retired). This event may or may not have caused me to be on the brink of hyperventilation. And while I'm really into downsizing a lot of stuff, this leopard has not completely changed her spots. I've noticed even recently that I "need" some new shoes. And come warmer climates  and fancier parties, I will wish for several of my storage-ridden shoes back. So, there is some proof that I still have access to oxygen in Wisconsin and that there is some normal brain function happening here.

But, at least to some extent, I am starting to think I can dig a life, and closet, with less stuff. And I conjecture that when we get our stuff back, we'll get rid of belongings, even as we slowly identify and purchase other belongings that suit our new home. My wardrobe COULD be one of my biggest targets for divestment. Ironic, now that I will have a huge closet. Very ironic.

But don't get the wrong idea. I'm still all about more. At least when it comes to space. And shoes. Yin and yang, right?