Whew. Glad that's over.

I decided to try out a headline from the future. One blog post upon diagnosis, one more when Liz has a clean bill of health. Sounds good to me. So between now and then, if you want to check out until she's cured, I understand. In the meantime, I guess I better keep this blog thing going.



Chewy got it right this time. That's pretty much how we feel.

Yesterday we went to see the genetic counselor (a job that sounds like it's from the future too). She's located in the cancer center, and we weren't quite ready emotionally to go hang out there. We had a good visit, asked lots of questions, and got some additional confirmations that the surgeon and the oncologist are the best around. We shall see. We then wanted to meet with the "breast cancer coordinator" (a job that sounds too sad to be true), but a wonderfully nice lady decided to start playing Jason Mraz and U2 on her harp in the cancer center lobby. That was too much for us, and we attempted to flee. Just then, the BCC swooped in, noticed the fear on our faces, and pushed us into a private room to chat. I didn't know that people like the BCC existed. Her entire job is to try to make this process as smooth as possible to reduce our worries. She's a nurse practitioner, has a bajillion letters after her name, and essentially has an "in" with all of the doctors and offices we'll have to coordinate with. If we need anything (or if and when I forget where we're supposed to be and what we're supposed to be doing), we can just call her. That was a relief, so we felt a little better, even though the harp moved on to Josh Groban.

Today is bilateral MRI at high noon. Results from the MRI, as well as the week-long pathology study report, will be in the oncologist's hands Monday morning for our appointment when we learn what we're up against.

Scheduling things now, like visits with the school social worker and Cohen's kindergarten teacher, thinking about how to get a couch we could use without sliding off the front (long story), wondering about family pictures, considering all of the great advice we've been getting (Colette, thank you more than you know)... Still overwhelming. Trying to keep things going as normal as possible for our wonderful boys. So grateful for grandma to be here with us right now.

Cohen now knows about good cells fighting the bad cells. He knows he isn't sick, and we told him that he's safe and we're going to get mom better. Enough for now for our amazing, wonderful, smart, perceptive worry wart.

Go Team Liz.