At the end of the day there is no doubt that I will survive this.  It’s just going to be a shitty, shitty 6 months to a year.

We caught it early (thanks to me being anal and doing breast self exams, noticing a lump and booking an ultrasound to get it checked out — all of which happened during breast cancer awareness month — again, the irony is not lost on me), it’s stage 1. I guess they grade aggressiveness of the cancer on a scale of 1 to 3, with 3 being the most aggressive.  The only thing that seems to be worrying the doctors is that my pathology report indicates a 3.  Apparently that’s what the term “poorly differentiated” is code for — recall my diagnosis is “poorly differentiated infiltrating ductal carcinoma”. Doesn’t that just roll off the tongue?! We should make up a song for it — like the one for supercalafragalisticexpialadoshous.

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