Cancer stalks my family like a hungry lion with broken teeth and ragged claws.  Most of my mom's relatives have died of it, so there's something in their genes, probably mine too, that makes our family an easy target for cancer.

Which is why I spent three days terrified that I was going to find out that my mother has it again. (she had it when I was seventeen or eighteen.)  Apparently she knew a few days before Christmas that her mamogram had been "alarming" and that they wanted her to come in for further imaging today. It still blows my mind that she didn't tell me until Tuesday, nor Vynce until today. We're adults, dammit!

On the other hand, the last three days waiting to see what happened were really rough. She tried to be stoic, but that wore thin last night, and she wanted me to go with her today. Had she told me any time before this past Friday, I could have arranged to have someone cover the training I did this afternoon, but not asking me last night. I tried to think of a way to work it out anyway, and she kept saying "never mind" in a way we all know means that she's upset that I'm unable to preform magic at the last second and rearrange my schedule.  Dad ended up going with her, and she appologized for upsetting me by asking then crying when I said I couldn't.

Apparently they couldn't find the lump this afternoon. I know that it's good news that they think it was a cyst that got reabsorbed, but I can't help but be wary anyway since they don't want her back until next December. That seems rather cavalier to me.  How do they go from "This is worrisome" to "Well, we don't see it now, you must be fine" at a drop of a hat? I suppose there's something telling in the fact that being told there's nothing to worry about worries me...