Yak, on the bookbag?

Oh dear. Here's the problem. I saw my surgeon, Dr. Moskowitz last week for a follow up. He snuck a peek and I made the comment that Dr. Timmons (my plastic surgeon) was probably finished with me. His comment was, "Oh, I don't think he's finished." So, I saw Dr. Timmons on Monday and he's not satisfied with the way things have "settled" , or not "settled". So, do I go back in for a 4th surgery, but this time on the other side to do a lift, (I'm about 2 inches lower on that side) or do I just settle for what I have? Here's the thing. When I look in the mirror and see past the physical, I see a strong survivor. When I look at the physical me, I see cancer, disfigurement and age. I'm grateful that I came through this horrible experience. However, I was hopeful that the end result would be a little better. Maybe it will be. I'm not sure what to do at this point. Michael tries to be supportive, but, really, if you've not been through a mastectomy, you really can't imagine the kind of choices one must make. So, with the support of my doctors, and the Lord's guidance, I'm sure I'll make the right decision. I'm just so ready for this to be over and done with! Thanks for letting me whine.

I had to make my weekly gas run to Grover this morning. For those of you who aren't locals, Grover is the town with the cheapest gas. I pulled up to the pump, opened the door, and what did I see?? The same blessed thing I see every time I get gas. Someone has hocked a loogie right where my foot needs to go. What would possess someone to spit such a hunk right in front of the gas pump??? Come on people. Think of others!! Think of those of us who would rather drive 500 miles with a stick in our eyes, than to spit a loogie on the ground, in public! I don't even think I know how to hock a loogie!! So, not only do I have to tip toe through the phlegm, I'm standing opposite of a man, on the other side of the gas pump, who happens to chew tobacco. Really??? The only time I look in his direction (which was only twice), was the exact time he chose to lob a three foot line of tobacco spit on, where, yep, the ground in front of the gas pump. It's just not my day.

Today, I did a major kid pick up from school. I had both of Lori's (usually I just have one), my two, and Mikey's best friend, Eric. Got 'em all stuffed in the van, dropped of Jared and Josh, yelling after them to get their homework done before mom gets home, and headed home. Johnathan, for some reason, always acts up when Mikey has Eric over. So, at 7:43 pm, he's in bed. Nuff said about that. Anyway, I digress. We got home and Mikey was excited to show Eric his new PlayStation game that had just arrived in the mail today. He walked into his room, and what do I hear?? "MOM!!!! Trina yakked on my book bag!!" Holy crap, really, today??? Like I need this. "OK, I'm coming." I walked into his room and, no, Trina did not yak on his book bag. Trina yakked on the floor and he threw his book bag on top of the yak. Lovely. Can you guess what I did for the next 20 minutes??

Nine minutes to American Idol. Have a great night, my friends. Encourage someone tomorrow. Be kind, and appreciate all you have. For tomorrow, Trina could come along and yak on it all.