Outside the Bullock Museum, Austin I was exhausted after the diagnostic mammogram which, usually less than an hour in total, turned out to be a 5 hour extravaganza. When I got home I burst into tears and had a good cry before I could even get out of the car. I started praying for calm and peace. More than the results of the biopsy I was freaking out about the procedure itself. Although the doctor and nurses assured me I would only feel the first numbing shot of the local anesthetic, I didn't believe them. Several times in the past I have been told the same thing, only to feel a lot of pain during the procedure. Despite my best efforts I would find myself worried about how I would react to the pain, if I would feel more than the first shot, if these people were trustworthy, if this doctor is good, etc. I told my parents the news over a dinner of grilled catfish and they did not seem overly concerned--which helped me so much, I think. Wanting to please them gave me a sort of "...
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