I find the whole shape of Scribd has been changed for me whether I will have it or not.

Today began like any other day. I slept in a bit because I didnt sleep very well last night and then I woke, remembering I had a 1:45 pm mammogram appointment to go to. Luckily our hospital is five minutes away and I had the time to shower, dress and stand out in the crazy colors of the garden whistling up all sorts of songbirds.

Then we got in the truck and sped over to the Imaging Center, where I took my clothes on and off for about an hour. This is only my second mammogram and I have small breasts so I couldnt remember much about the procedure. When that part was done, the nurse sent me across the street to the doctors office again.

I had spent a lot of time lst night going through old photographs, I dont know why, but there she was the beautiful gypsy woman. My mother had always told me I was beautiful, but I figured there was an agenda behind that because she smacked me around so much, let her second husband pound on us kids for a measley second paycheckAnyway I cried last night , realizing she was right, I was beautiful. Back then. Im okay now, in my wild turban and my orange kimono.

When I got to the doctors office, there werent many people in the waiting room. But still I expected a bit of a wait. But no, my doctor came out straight away and I followed him into his office. Suddenly I froze, the deer in the headlights. I knew something was wrong, but how wrong was still a

mystery. The history of my doctor is a wonderful story. I am fifty-five and he is either in his early to mid-sixties. He was an SDSer in the sixties, though opt out when he saw the violent turn the group was taking. He cares about people and the environment a lot. He holds his emotions in because he cares so much and he appears to have little affect and this is what I had to deal with when he said I had cancer throughout the right breast and it would have to come off. He came straight out and told me I had breast cancer. No shilly-shallying around. Just the fuckin facts. I broke out radio-loud, uncontrollable crying with snot running down my face mingled with tears. But it was the LOUD-NESS of my self that shocked me. I could not be quiet. And then I turned it off, just like that. I had to be able to ask him questions, define the limitations of this diseaseMy heart is breaking. I cant get a grip on my external nor internal self. Since I was ten years old I have dealt with death beginning with my heart condition. Then falling on my spine and truly wrecking my ability to walk normal, sit normal for any left of time Then Celiacs Disease, so many small things that confront the senses The senses.

In the dressing room, I had my clothes on andoff at least four times and at one point, I stopped and said out out, I am glad this is happy to ME and not and atheist who would be in so much fear of what comes next. I said that because I have this total faith of what comes next, and yet I am still filled with an amount of fear I have never experienced before. But I am still afraid. That doesnt mean I dont trust G-d. This doesnt mean I have doubts about

Him, Im just scared anyway. I believe this fear is for Dan and our sons. Because they dont have my faith, Im worried they will struggle with fear and anger and a furious kind of behavior that will take them away from my love and make them forget the Us of this family. It is so important they stay strong for themselves. Anyway, I would like to use SCRIBD as a kind of journal from here on out. Oh, there will be poems as they flood from my self, but I would like a place that I may speak of my normal fears and my abnormal terrors, my daily experiences with the act of fighting cancer. I dont know if this is the correct place for this, but I would like it to be, because I have come to care about you all so much. But if you think its inappropriate, please tell me and I will go somewhere else. I just dont want to. I am a-swirl in my senses here. I would like to call this , A Circle of Six Senses, unless I come upon something that speaks the language even closer to my heart. Please let me know if this would be too hard to deal with as you all have a chance to work yr craft and make beauty of the terrifying world. I will try to find somewhere else that I am comfortable. Thank you very much for the times you have given me to watch my heart grow, my spirits laugh and play delight as I myself have grown in the lessons of how to be a better writer. With Great Love, yes, I am not afraid this use this word any longer, thank you for all you all have given me.

Robin Rule 21, June 2011 Mendonesia California