Remember this? Yeah, well. Not so much.
As it turns out, my mom does have some variety of inflammatory breast cancer. She meets with the oncologist next Wednesday (which infuriates me that she didn't see him/her the same damn day, but has to wait a fucking week), and they'll give her the course of action, but a double mastectomy is a given. Before they can do that, though, she has to have chemo to reduce the size of her breasts, so that they have enough skin left to cover things up. They also have to see if it's metastasized.
I've spent a lot of the past day and a half swearing and crying. My mom, however, is in very good spirits. She is very comfortable leaving it up to God (though of course she's getting treatment), and has joked about finally being able to wear cute little bras, and getting a blue & yellow striped mohawk wig. She feels that she's going to come through fine. I should mention that she's been cancer free for over nine years.
I'm also incredibly pissed off and frustrated at my brother, who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth. He doesn't really have a relationship with my mom, and she's said that I shouldn't feel obligated to tell him about this, but it's making me even crazier that I can't get ahold of him.
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