Seeing the Space Shuttle being moved live and in person for the last time ever (October 12, 2012):
I live and work somewhere in greater Southern California.  I could easily have seen this live and in person, except for one little thing.  After the week I’ve had [See “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished” and “Schedule: Week of October 8-12, 2012“], I was so physically tired and emotionally spent that I cried from it all, for really no other reason.  Hubby was willing to do whatever he could to enable me to go see it – pack me up in blankies in the truck and let me sleep until it was right in front of me, pump me full of coffee so I could stay awake to see it – but the thought of staying up late just made me cry.  Hubby just woke up and said he was so close to it he could almost touch it.  It almost made me cry…again.
[Photo Credit: Roger C. Ambrose on Facebook]

Dad’s Birthday (October 8, 2012):
Interview with ROnc – Dr. H.  Finding a doctor I think I can work with – but that results in placing thirty-nine (39) – yes that is Not a typo – doctor’s/treatment appointments on my calendar in the next two months.  [See “Upcoming Appts – as of October 11, 2012 (and Probable Holiday Impact)“]

Drive with the BMW Z Club (September 30, 2012):
Usually I love a good, spirited canyon drive with good friends.  Hubby’s a skilled, tidy driver.  I’m also well aware that the same bodily sensations can sometimes be interpreted in more than one way, depending on one’s frame of mind.  So what is usually interpreted by my brain as excitement when I’m strong and rested becomes anxiety when I’m not.  And right now I’m not feeling strong (recovering from surgery, preparing for more treatments while still working full-time) and it’s been so long since I’ve had a real night’s sleep (without some pharmaceutical to help – and even with them I don’t wake feeling rested) that I feel I never will again (yes, I know – this too shall pass – but right now it’s hard to see past this).

Mom’s Birthday (July 2, 2012):
Needle Biopsy Day.  I made a big deal about how much the doctor nicking me with a scalpel to make inserting the needle easier was going to scar.  I was going on the theory that the biopsy was the extent of the treatment I’d need, and the way my boob looks matters to me, so I wanted any permanent scars/marks to be as small as possible.  It turns out that biopsy was just the beginning, so what does it matter how big that little scar is?  Please see the post “My Boob is Not the Mona Lisa!”

Hubby’s Birthday (June 25, 2012):
Mammogram/Ultrasound Day.  The day I was told I needed to schedule a needle biopsy.