How it came to pass that I booked a hotel and then promptly forgot where I would be staying

Life has been a bit hectic around here lately which TOTALLY explains why things - important things - have been slipping my mind.

Sure, I freely admit that in the past few years I haven't been as on top of things as I normally would - but then the last few years have been anything BUT normal.

But in the last month things have been slipping a little more than usual; and that was never more apparent than when I made a hotel reservation online for this weekend, actually assumed I'd receive the confirmation email and promptly forgot where I had booked the room.  And of course I never received that confirmation.

Yes.  That seriously happened.  Which is how I found myself calling various hotels in Raleigh that are located near the PNC Arena trying to find out where I would be staying on Sunday night.

You see, Sunday I am attending a Billy Joel concert (yes, I realize he isn't "happening" or "now" or whatever, but I love him nonetheless and I will not tolerate any teasing.  That man is a genius and can play the piano like nobody's business) with Man-Child.  Yes, you read that right.  Man-Child will be attending the concert with me (willingly, I might add.  What can I say? I raised him right.  He has an eclectic taste in music that includes rap, country, rock and Billy Joel).

At my very first Billy Joel concert I was newly pregnant with Man-Child.  It was amazing.  Since then I have tried to see him in concert every time he was in town or even close to our town.  As some of you may know, he "retired" some years back to focus on classical music.

I was heartbroken.  Because, despite the fact that I love Billy Joel, I'm not really into classical music at all, but I wished him well.

Then Twitter came along and, after my initial rejection of it, I was sucked in and who did I find on Twitter?  Why Billy Joel, of course.  Although, I have determined that it's not actually Billy Joel doing the tweeting; it's his "people" which, means it's not actually a fun Twitter feed to follow until I started noticing that his feed was announcing concert dates.  The first one was in Florida and I figured it was some kind of "special event" since he was retired and all.  I begged Hubby to take me but he just laughed.  Honestly, after all these years he should know better.  Then I began to see all the announcements for shows at Madison Square Garden and my hope began to bloom.

I even responded to one Tweet with something along the line of how I'd go to the show if he'd just come to North Carolina.  Anywhere in North Carolina.

And lo and behold, one day a Tweet came across that he was coming to Raleigh!  I told my husband that the ONLY thing I wanted for Christmas was tickets and he came through.  But, being the old, stick in the mud he has become refused to go; whereupon Man-Child piped up that he would LOVE to go with me.  And this will be his first Billy Joel concert - "outside of the womb" (his words, not mine). And this is a blessing, because I was willing to sell that extra ticket and go by myself if I had to.

All of which leads me to making hotel reservations for this Sunday.  To the hotel I couldn't remember and as to why important details like this have been slipping my mind.

Back in January, I finally had my mammogram.  And I walked away feeling smug and self-satisfied that I had finally met all my health check ups as I promised myself (and you) that I would do.

Until I received a call a week later.  Asking me to come back in for "another image."  I felt a prick of fear but quickly told myself that it was just a bad image and they needed another.  Unfortunately, they were booked solid for about another week or so.  But I was fine.

Really, I was okay.  Until after the second mammogram when they took me back to the little room to get dressed and asked me to wait.  Then that little, prick of fear blossomed just a bit.  But, I calmed myself down and told myself that they just wanted the radiologist to look at it immediately to keep me from worrying myself silly.

And then the doctor came into the little room and shut the door.  And began telling me about new calcification and that although seventy-five percent of the time it's nothing, it could be the beginning of something more (he even used the "C" word!) and told me he was going to schedule me for a needle biopsy the next week.  Needless to say, my stomach dropped and I was numb.

I went back and forth between crying and telling myself I would be fine all the way home.

Before I got home, I had stiffened my upper lip and spine.  I had to hold it together for Hubby.  He's a worrier.  No, scratch that.  He is a WORLD CHAMPION worrier.  I told him what was going on in a very cavalier fashion and pretended like I was fine.  Despite the fact that my guts were churning.

Hubby met me at the Breast Center on "the" day.  For a moment, while standing in line to check in, I almost passed out I was so scared.  The only things that kept my feet under me was knowing how that would freak Hubby out and the utter embarrassment I would feel if I actually fell out in the waiting room.

As always, they didn't keep me waiting but called me back fairly quickly.  As the nurse ushered me into the little room to change she asked if I was okay.  I nodded.  Apparently, that didn't convince her since she asked again.  And I crumpled.  I began to cry and told her I was terrified.  She wrapped me in her arms, rocked me and told me it would be okay.  She stayed with me until she was sure I was fairly calm.  I love that woman more than she will ever know.  I wonder if they know what a treasure she is?  I wish I'd gotten her name so I could tell them.

When they brought me into the room where the procedure would be done I was faced with what looked to be a table constructed for the purposes of torture.  It was HUGE and there was all kinds of terrifying equipment spread around the room.

The radiologist came in and explained exactly what was going to happen and then informed me that I wouldn't receive the results until the next day.  Maybe later, if the lab was backed up.

The procedure, while not painful per se, was uncomfortable and long.  But successful on the first try - which, apparently, isn't always the case as I learned as I waited on that uncomfortable table while the sample was taken for an x-ray for what seemed like forever.

Once the biopsy was over and I was bandaged up, I was subjected to ANOTHER mammogram (honestly, three mammograms in a month's time is REALLY asking a lot out of a woman) to make sure the titanium chip they had placed in my breast was in the correct position.  Apparently, they place this teeny-tiny chip in just in case something IS wrong so they can find the problem area easily if they have to go back in.  Then I was sent home to wait.

Poor Hubby, when I walked back into the waiting room he was just about a basket case.  He is quite capable of working himself into a state without my help at all.

I got the call yesterday at work.  I am fine.  It was all I could do to keep from crying with relief at my desk.

And all that explains WHY I couldn't remember where I'd booked my hotel reservation...I've had a lot on my mind in the last few weeks.

But, as luck would have it, I finally figured out where we are staying...and I will be able to enjoy this weekend without anything hanging over my head causing me angst.

Life is good.  It's really, really good.