The breast MRI went smoothly. Breathing was tricky. The variety of loudness was interesting. Overall, it was fine. The MRI tech said if I have to do another MRI someday, it'll be a breeze because the breast MRI is probably the toughest since you have to lie on your stomach the whole time. The radiologist... Continue Reading →

The breast MRI machine went down and has to be repaired. They scheduled me for tomorrow at 2:15. They can't guarantee that the machine will be repaired by then, but I'm on the schedule. It’s the last day that I can schedule it, or I have to wait until next month. I’ll call before I... Continue Reading →

Tomorrow is the breast MRI. I’m to report to the imaging center at 1:30 for paperwork. Table-time is 2. I’m doing a cash deal instead of fooling with the health insurance company. I’d have to wait another month to work through that mucky mire. Yet, I’m thinking about the stories I want to write. There’s... Continue Reading →

I used to pretend I was Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s love-child. In a spiritual-literary sense, I still dream that it's true. Here’s a lecture he gave about the Shape of Stories. In his sublime simplicity and humor, he explains all of storytelling with a simple graph. It applies, as well, to the stories we tell ourselves.... Continue Reading →

I have lumps in my breasts. Quite a few actually. In March 2019, I watched – my head twisted cockeyed – straining to see the screen where my radiologist measured all of the solid masses she found. Rolling the tools of her well-practiced trade on my naked and gel-covered breasts, she chatted with me and... Continue Reading →