I bought a little yellow bikini today. I think I look pretty good in it.... all things considered. Which, before I forget... do you know what crepe-y means? It is actually an old french word that is a combination of "creepy" and "drapey". My butt told me that today.
My friend is moving next week. She can't be replaced, either. It was so funny how we met, too. I had taken Alyssa to the park one day last fall and there were two moms chatting together. We all said "Hi" to each other and I joined in their conversation. When I started chatting with Heather, I found out that her daughter was only three months younger than mine. I asked if she lived close by and she said she lived in such-and-such neighborhood... which is my neighborhood! I then told her which street I lived on and she looked surprised and said "So do I!" Turns out we lived right across the street from each other. Well, now she's off to Maryland. It's just not fair **stomping foot** Do you know how hard it is to try to make new friends at my age? It's not that it's that hard to make friends, but rather finding one that you actually like, doesn't drive you up a wall, and has no drama? Hard, I tell you... very, very hard. What's a girl to do?
I went and had my passport photo taken this morning. There was a little glitch with their printer so I'll be picking it up in the morning. I guess I'll have Alyssa's picture taken when we go. She didn't go with me today. I had a babysitter this morning because I had several things to get done, and I really enjoy the one day a week where I can get out by myself for a couple of hours. I can not wait for that man to get home! Not too long now, and he'll be here for almost a month long visit. I better change the subject... my mouth is beginning to water.
The doctor called me two days ago. For some reason he wants me to have another test done. I don't know if I should be alarmed or not but I'm simply not going to waste the energy thinking about it right now.
Here's the background on the "medical issue": When I was six months old, my mom had to take my brother to the doctor. I think my sister had stabbed him in the hand or something equally damaging. The doctor checked him out, but then decided that my coloring wasn't good and wanted to take a look at me. So, he took me for a few minutes, came back with me and told my mom "They're waiting for you at the Vanderbilt ER. Go straight there and do NOT stop for lunch." From what I understand, a portion of my left lung was enlarged, had pushed out of my rib cage and collapsed on top of my heart. They removed almost 75% of the lung (because I was so little when this happened, the lung somehow grew to the correct size as I developed). I had an exceptional recovery and was out of the hospital within about two weeks. They thought I'd be there for at least six weeks. I still have the newspaper article that was written about it five years later. So, fast forward 15 years to the jokes my sister would make about my left boob not matching my right boob. That's the great thing about family... they know everything about you and will mercilessly tease you. The scar runs from my back to the front, around under my armpit. This caused my left breast to develop not as nicely as the right one. After a few years of the teasing, at the age of 20, I had a small implant put in so that it would match my other breast. The Dr who did it did an amazing job, too, and I was quite happy with my new rack. Well, back in February, I was taking a gander of my skinnier self in the mirror when I realized "OH MY GOD! My left boob looks like a Tara Reid botch job and my right one looks like a black diamond ski slope compared to it!". Turns out the implant had herniated/encapsulated. After the last three months of trials and tribulations with two less than stellar doctors, I'm finally making some great progess with a specialist off base. I met with him two weeks ago and he's convinced me that he's the Dr. for the job. Then he called me two days ago and said he thinks I need a mammogram. There's a little something there (on the MRI) that's not too clear, other than the encapsulation of the implant. After that's done, we'll be moving forward with having the implant removed and both boobs being brought "up to par". So, there. That's it. I just really hope that 5mm spot is nothing.