So I don't believe that I have cancer to comfort others who might eventually get it. Yes, the Post-Mastectomy Paper Dolls are cute but they certainly don't justify the means.
I reflect on the quiet weekend God led me to acknowledge a lump, as though small inaudible whispers suddenly found voice. The announcement a week later did not speak in gentle hush; Annunciation by biopsy and blood.
Not as Mary responded, a willing agree
Nor after breasts removed do I "be not afraid."
For now I wait for a messenger to declare whether cells have spread shaping future days to come.
Go away angels of bad news. I shield my eyes and ears from your unwelcome visitations.
Hoping beyond surface Christmas for "tidings of comfort and joy" replacing some strange notion of "bigger" plan.