But I’m not wearing pink today…


“I am grateful for the things that You have done. Yes, I’m grateful for the victories we’ve won. I could go on, and on, and on about Your word. Because I’m grateful, grateful, so grateful just to praise You, Lord. Flowing from my heart, are the issues of my heart. It’s gratefulness.”


In a previous post, I mentioned that last week was mentally exhausting. I admit, I let worry consume me and I began speaking things into existence that instead, should have been on my prayer list.

So, to catch you up…

On Monday, July 28, I went to the doctor’s office for the dreaded “lady exam”. They’re just awkward and depending on the doctor, they’re rough. In the past, I’ve felt the need to pull out a candy cigarette on the ride home. Ha! But I digress…

So, I’m excited to get the appointment over with. My new doctor is great. She’s very nice and very patient, especially when I ask her if I’m reaching the ticking of the biological clock and things of that nature. First of all, no one told me that the paper gown has now become a paper vest. Lord, have mercy! Awkward!

Mid-appointment, my doctor discovered that something “didn’t feel right” during the clinical breast exam. Asking the nurse to check as well, they agreed that something was off. I felt like little elves began stacking bricks upon my chest. My eyes began to water and a few tears streamed down. Of course, I hurriedly brushed them from my face because I didn’t want them to see me emotional. I mean, I wear my family medical history as a badge of honor. Breast cancer affected my sister, paternal aunt, and maternal grandmother. I know this, and I spout off the pre-exam facts for every visit. Thankfully, my sister is a survivor of 15-plus years. But, the reality is that her testimony has nothing to do with me. It’s her testimony, not mine.

The odd thing is…no matter how much I shared about them, I never thought that I would have to begin mammograms at my age. I’m nowhere near 35, and my health is good (minus the extra pounds here and there). Leaving that appointment, I immediately drove to the Women’s Hospital to walk-in for my first mammogram ever. No one in the car, no one to hold my hand through it, just tears and a crumpled McDonald’s napkin as I drove across the city to face the unknown. Thank God for the wonderful, friendly hospital staff! They were amazing and most likely sensed my internal freak out.

Changing into a nicer, fabric robe, I stood there in silence as this million dollar machine snapped images, left and right. Looking back, I think that I held my breath the whole time. It was as if I was in a scary movie, just before the creepy person jumped out. The silence was overwhelming. About four image takes later, I dressed once more to return to my office. Our staff meeting was that morning as well. As I reentered my normal Monday routine, the waiting game began. I am so happy that my work week was ridiculously busy, because it occupied my mind for most of the day.

If you’ve never experienced this, the waiting period can exhaust you even more that getting the test.

I am so grateful to say that my results were normal. However, I do consider that week of waiting my breast cancer scare. I am considered high-risk due to my family history, and I knew that prior to my appointment. But, there was still an air of “I’m too young to deal with this.” Thank God for reality checks and humbling experiences. I will now get mammograms on a yearly basis. The best protection is early detection (with any disease).

If you’re reading this post, remember that even though a doctor’s visit can be downright awkward, it can be your saving grace. And for that, I am grateful!

God bless,
K. Jones ♥


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