It’s been a while since my last post. It’s for many reasons, let’s just say “life”.
The bratlets are changing at a rate of crazy. Dude is getting sincerely entertaining with his weirdness, little dances with shooting fingers as he exits a room backwards, things like that. Madam has developed a wide streak of sarcasm, which warms the cockles of my salty little heart. They’re the same size now, which confuses Himself no end as he can’t tell which clothes belong to which kid. I regularly get asked about my twins.
Speaking of Himself, the man is only getting better with age. He’s back at karate (and yes, it’s sexy as hell) as Dude wanted to give it a go, and I’m currently typing from the hall as all three of my little family punch at the air. That’s right, after months of seeing the boys head off to karate, Madam is trying out her first lesson as we speak.
As far as myself, I’ve had a hard time lately. I had a bit of a cancer scare, which sounds super overdramatic, but I’m at a loss for another term. I had gone for my routine smear test, but this time the results were concerning. There are three grades of dyskaryosis (precancerous or abnormal cells on the cervix) and I had grade three, the most severe. This triggered a further investigation called a colposcopy, where the cervix is examined under a microscope and stained with ascetic acid and iodine to make the abnormal cells more easily visible. The doctor performing the colposcopy showed me on the video feed that the entire face of my cervix is covered in abnormal cells. She also took four punch biopsies during the same session. The less said about those the better.
I do a pretty good job of living in the present these days, focusing on the positive and not borrowing trouble from tomorrow. I won't lie, though, waiting for those biopsy results was tough. Thankfully, they only took a week and a half to come back, and there was no indication of cancer. Cue major relief. I still have to have the entire front of my cervix removed, that's happening Tuesday afternoon, and the recovery is going to suck hard, but it's not cancer. Shall I say it again? I don't have cancer. Whew.
The best bit about the last few months is my new job. I've done such a random assortment of things over the last twenty-five years (yes, I've been working for a quarter of a century) that I've always considered myself a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. Little did I know that was a job description... I got a job as the caretaker at our church and I'm loving every second of it. I've repaired and bled radiators, cleaned roofs, painted, cleaned, gardened, and a thousand other things. If I don't already know how, Google has the answer. It's only a part time gig, but it's so fun, and very rewarding when people have noticed the positive changes in the building and grounds.
So, all in all, everything is pretty good. I love my job, my kids are entertaining, and I have a hot husband who folds and puts away laundry. Who could ask for anything more?
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