Expect the worst but hope for the best. That old cliche. Pre-armoured. Bulletproof. An invite to misfortune offered by the gods of optimism.
Feeling. Poking and prodding. Everything feels normal. Everything looks normal. Talk of minimal things. Encouraging words thrown in. Normal.
Pain. In breast. And armpit. In the whole side. Malignancy running rampant.
Pain. In breast. And armpit. In the whole side. Malignancy metamorphosing. To normal?
Normal. Something to celebrate. Just one small G+T. Just one small step. Before walking on the moon.
