My cup(s) runneth over

See what I did there?

The strange thing about unplanned news is that all these unplanned things keep happening. I would never in a million years claim for one second that a life-threatening diagnosis is a gift but maybe, just maybe there are some things we are able to appreciate along the way?

Last summer, we decided to go to the north shore of MA on a hot summer Saturday. It appears we had the same idea as the REST OF NEW ENGLAND and found ourselves in miles long traffic on a two-lane road. We turned off, found a place to get lunch, had a picnic and explored an area we would have never seen. We are good like that– our whole family. We are okay going off track and can usually find the good in slight derailments from our plan. Ask any of my kids and they'll tell you we call them "Melander Family adventures".

I don't feel as charitable towards this detour but I cannot help but acknowledge and appreciate some of the scenery we have so far encountered on this "adventure":

1) Mammograms! Get your (free – if you have insurance) mammograms!! – I can personally ensure that I have increased the patient engagement level of women between the ages of 35 and over in their breast health. As a person who works to improve the greater healthcare good, this pleases me to no end. I have had MANY people from Florida to Chicago to Boston and back again tell me that they are getting their long-overdue if not first mammogram. Remember, my little "situation" was found during a routine, first-ever, no-family-history l'il trip to the mammography center. Make that appointment.

2) Our first-ever giant (!!) road trip: Mark agreed to drive down South for 16 hours to ultimately end up in South Carolina. Anyone who knows Mark knows that 16 hour road trips aren't really his thing. Along the way we got to see:
– The Eclipse! We got to see the eclipse in totality just south of Charleston.
– Friends and Family! … that we wouldn't have otherwise seen. Our kids have gotten to meet their kids. We shared food, wine, and Legos. We have gotten to see their homes and friends. It's been so special.
– Brown Widow Spiders! There is one at the end of the driveway. It's enormous. Can spiders jump?? This sucker is the size of my palm. I do not recommend checking them out at close range.

3) Wide-spread, ever-expanding, flexible, strong, LOVE and STRENGTH. We have received texts, calls, and letters from across the country and globe. Some of these messages have started with "I don't know you, but…" and then go on to share words of support and encouragement. It's overwhelming. It brings me to tears. It makes me laugh. It stuns me, and then I just collapse, exhausted.

Since our trip, I've reflected on these gifts, marveling at the sincerity of some of our experiences and laughing at the absurdity of others. I've giggled at irony and truly appreciated kindness more than I have in a long time.

This morning, with one day to go, I woke up. I spent the morning wavering between hysteria and tears, plastering on a grin and navigating school visits and drop-offs (while along the way, collapsing into nervous sobs to various people I encountered — the secretary at the elementary school, the school counselor, J's teacher, and then my friend the massage therapist). Then, I had an awkward third-person discussion with myself, told myself I was a ninny and to just pull it together and take a shower. Commence surgery prep.

Nails were painted yesterday. Hair removal, including waxing and/or shaving everything I thought needed attention, check. Shampoo, my second to last, in two weeks, check. Blow out my hair, check. Somewhere between shaving my second leg and my deep-conditioning treatment, I realized I felt somewhat like my 16/17-year-old self prepping for the prom! Because exactly. Prom prep is JUST LIKE MASTECTOMY PREP. Basically the same. Except: this time I didn't go tanning, and I definitely don't get to make out with a cute 17-year-old boy afterwards. Unless something REALLY gets crazy in the recovery room.

(I told Mark all of this and he ensured that if I indeed wanted to make out after surgery, he would be available. FYI.)

I'm now settled into bed, my bag is packed, my heart is full and I truly can feel you all loving, caring, praying, pushing (okay, shoving) me to the starting line. And I'll show up. Surgery is at noon.

P.S. My sister(s) will post an update so you can be sure to find out how it goes. I know you'll all want to know whether my nipples survived. I know I will.