What seems like another lifetime ago when we lived in Santa Monica,
I had three little kids, and Rachel was only 21, going to nursing school and nannying for Susan,
Rachel was driving back to California from Utah with her friend, Jessica,
and they were basically pushed off the road by a semi and had a terrible crash.
I had three little kids, and Rachel was only 21, going to nursing school and nannying for Susan,
Rachel was driving back to California from Utah with her friend, Jessica,
and they were basically pushed off the road by a semi and had a terrible crash.
Dan and Jason (Rachel's boyfriend, Jessica's brother), flew or drove,
I can't remember the details, to Las Vegas to gather them up and bring them home.
I can't remember the details, to Las Vegas to gather them up and bring them home.
For the next few weeks whenever I was in the car alone, I cried and cried tears of gratitude thinking how things could have turned out so differently and how grateful I was that the two girls walked away unhurt.
Monday, Rachel had a 3 cm lump that removed from her breast.
She'd been waiting for the surgery for a few weeks.
Today the results came back that everything was clear. A fibroadenoma.
(Only Rachel, a nurse, would know what that meant without looking it up.)
I hadn't allowed myself to think anything differently than it would be benign.
I couldn't even imagine it. I wouldn't.
Upon hearing the news, the same emotions of 22 years ago came flooding back.
She's okay. Everything's okay.
When I told Dan, he felt the same thing, and said,
"It makes me tear up hearing it's good news."
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