Five days after I was discharged, we found out my mom has breast cancer.
In a matter of weeks my new medication had me retaining water to the tune of a fully increased cup size, and my mom had both of her breasts removed.
Consequently, my escapist Etsy browsing has taken on a different tone. I'm not looking at pretty things and imagining them in a life that takes me away from my own loud, hyper-present pain. Instead my mother's renewed mortality and sudden inabilities are sufficient distraction from my physical issues. Now I search for something less frantic, more numbly, and despite my dreamy glaze I keep coming back to the practical.
We expect the pathology report tomorrow to confirm things, but my mother is expected to make a full recovery.
