My doctor recommended a surgeon who specialized in breast cancer and I got on his docket right away. The bad news is you have cancer. The good news is having cancer moves you to the front of the line. We had a meet and greet on a Thursday. I was hoping he could schedule me for surgery the next day. Then I could recover over the weekend and go back to work on Monday. Plus, Jeff had a car he was supposed to drive to New Jersey on Monday for a customer, then fly back on Tuesday. Yes, Friday would be perfect to schedule Dr. "Zorro" and get on with it.
Cancer or no cancer, turns out scheduling surgery is not exactly like scheduling a party. There were "things" to be done first. I would have surgery Tuesday morning. But before that, I would have a blood draw on Monday; an EKG and an MRI.
I had two choices: a lumpectomy and probably the chemo/radiation party package; or the mastectomy/reconstruction long engagement, with no chemo and a perky outcome. I didn't hesitate. I had been famously perky at one time. One good shove upwards and I could instantly remember where the girls used to reside before moving south. Perky would be great. Perky would be youthful. Perky would be invigorating. Perky would be a long process.
I went with the lumpectomy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment