After nearly a week of fear and worry, my bestie got a phone call from the lab. "Your biopsy came back negative."
She called to tell me and after I whooped, kissed the nearest cat, and danced around the kitchen, I said, "But the doctor said you have cancer. She told us it was one of three kinds, that it might be bad or not, that it wasn't in your lymph nodes. She discussed radiation and treatment options and survival rates, for God's sake."
Apparently that doctor was wrong. I say we go kick her butt.