Went to see the surgeon today. She wants to take one tumor from each side because it's the only way to know for sure what I got going on in there. She talked a lot about the aesthetics of the surgery, where my scars would be. I guess it's better to cut around the areola because the scars show less. That's cool for the one on my right but the one on my left is on the "cleavage line" so I have to decide if I want them to cut around the areola and dig a tunnel through my tit or if I want to have a little scar. I'm leaning toward the scar because the other way sounds more complicated and um, really fucking gross. It's going to be a "partial bilateral masectomy" which sounds a lot worse than it actually is. And good news! I don't have to be awake! My surgeon is actually the first doctor who made me feel like everything is going to be totally fine. Cheers to you, Doctor Tanaka!

Now I want to share a sweet story from restaurant land. A couple weeks ago, I had a lady at one of my tables bring in a thank you card for a man who had bought her and her 3 kids lunch there a couple weeks ago. I guess he's a regular who comes in by himself at lunch and picks someone, usually a single mother, and buys their meal. The servers and managers know him but he remains anonymous to the other guests. I gave the card to my manager and he said it's the first time anyone has ever come back with a thank you card for the man and he would make sure to give it to him. I've been thinking about it a lot, what motivates that man, who he is, why single moms. Maybe he has a kid he's never known or even just thinks he might. Maybe his mom raised him on her own and he knows how hard it is. Maybe he wants a family of his own but feels like time is running out. Maybe he just gives to give, no back story, no baggage.

When the woman came back she was with her husband and 3 kids and I gave them all ice cream cones on the house because that shit is sweet.

Went to the dirty monday tonight after ballet. Stina has been talking lately about how they always go earlier now and how Gabe plays better stuff early and blah blah and I thought when she said she and Jenni were almost ready at 9:40 that they would be there in a timely fashion but long story short I sat by myself at the fucking saloon for almost an hour. I was going to just finish my beer and leave but David the bartender gave me a pity drink so I stayed but I was too irritated to have any fun and Stina decided to leave after she chugged a beer anyway. I just wanted to go out and have fun for a night like over summer and not worry about school (I'm not going tomorrow because of the fires) and not think about my tumors and just have a good time and fucking relax but now I feel worse than before.

I keep acting like it's kind of a joke that I have five fucking tumors and shit and laughing about it and yeah, they're benign, but they won't necessarily stay that way. The fact that I have this many benign tumors makes my risk of developing less benign growths go way up and I don't want to have to think about that possibility. I don't ever want to get that sick. I don't want to carry something around in my breast that could kill me. It's just such a shock to me. I have no family history of breast cancer or anything like that. It doesn't even look to me like I have room for that many tumors in my b-cups. It's scary. Thinking about the surgery the doctors are recommending for me is scary. And it's not a fear I was in any way prepared for. I don't know how to deal. I've thought about calling Ray so many times because I wish he would comfort me. I need that but I don't feel like I can ask that from anyone else. I want to lean on someone and lean hard right now but I feel like that's clearly more than I can expect from any of my friends and more than I would put on my parents. But things he has done to me can't be undone. I can never lean on him again.

God, I don't ever want to get that sick. I don't even want to be as "sick" as I am right now. I feel fine. I feel the same way I felt before the tests and diagnosis but knowing that there are things like that inside of me that are beyond my control is terrifying. I want to go to sleep and wake up in the morning to find all the bad things are gone.

I have 5 benign tumors (fibroadenomas if you please) in my breasts. The radiologist recommended that I consult with a surgeon about the largest one. Apparently if it gets any bigger it will be visible to the naked eye. Right now it feels like there's a big peanut m&m in my boob.

Last Saturday night at work Dave Mosely accidentally punched me in the boob and it made me really mad. I am going to tell him that he gave me tumors and try to make him do my sidework. He will probably not care but it's worth a try.

So much to do today and all I want to do is go back to sleep.