In an hour, I go to my mammogram, which means it's time for my
where I sit here all week and wait nervously for them to call me to say, "We saw something. You have to come back in."
Twice they've done the terrifying call-me-to-come-back-in thing, and twice I've been fine--just got the nice form letter. "Dear [June], Your [mammogram] was [fine.]. Love, Greensboro Hoots-n-Things."
So, this year? TIEBREAKER!
It's the most nervousy time of the year.. . .