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The surgeon is happy. And we know what we are doing this summer.

It's looking good, the Letrozole is still working very effectively, and Lumpy gets more vague each time the surgeon pummels it. I guess I have found it all less encouraging since I had to give up my almost unconscious hope that the lump would just disappear like last time, and I wouldn't need surgery. This may or may not have been fuelled by a)me being a bit of a dreamer and b)my mum's hysteria at the idea of me having any medical procedures at all. She wants it magically gone. In the past I had a lump that did 'magically go.' Why can't this one magically go?

But no. We must be adults this time. Fortunately R was there to ask questions and get clarity because I have none. He took the day off yesterday and we relaxed; later he made us a fine supper of Moules Mariniere, a quietly impressive Rick Stein recipe. I made nice bread to have with it, we partook of some Pouilly-Fumé to accompany. Unfortunately, we both forgot about the Planning Seminar last night. So annoying! But worth it!

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