Better not knowing...

Who would have thought I would be happy for my daughter to have Stage 2 breast cancer and to be happy with only 4 out of 20 lymph nodes have cancer.  But I’ll take it.   Mom—yesterday

When it comes to anything medical, I just figure it is what it is and we do what we have to do to fix it and life goes on.  I don’t dwell on it and I don’t even want to know what they are doing.  For example, when I went in for the breast reduction, I had no clue how it was done and I really did not care, I just wanted it done.  Heck, I had taken 2 weeks off from work and thought I would recover the first week and then I would be on my merry little way the second. Talk about a slap in the face… however, it was blessing not really knowing what was about to happen (I say not really as the Sunday before at breakfast, Bob Gilbert was telling me he saw it on TV and how interesting it was and what they did etc, etc.  I remember yelling at him to stop as I just did not want to know.  Amazes me what fascinates some people).  I did the same thing this time.  Each time I have trusted the doctor to do what they are trained to do. 

                Anyway, it never even occurred to me it would be anything higher than a Stage 2 or that the number of lymph nodes involved would be high. Never even crossed my mind; never lost any sleep over it.  However, both Mom and Billy were worried. (again, a good thing I did not know as I would have felt a little guilty they were worrying).  In fact, when I called Billy from the parking lot he said he was expecting Stage 3 and 5 to 6 nodes.  And Mom, sitting next to me, said she thought the same thing.  (dang, I should have placed money on it).  I admit it was a little unnerving that both of them felt it was going to be worse. 

                Personally I thought the appointment went well.  Of course I was more interested in getting that damn drain out then hearing about the pathology report.  In fact, I would like to take a moment to mourn the drain.  Dear drain, hard to believe it was only just a week.  Sleeping was finally getting easier (unless I moved) and Mom finally was getting the hang of emptying it. (I even started to help).  And I laughed when you decided it was time to spring a leak during the Session meeting.  I have no clue how I am going to manage taking a shower without you hanging there.  I hope you did not take it too personally when Dr. Lynn walked in and the first thing I said to her was get this thing out of me now.  Love me.  (of course it could have been worse; you could have been a catheter).

                Back to the report.  All in all, it was not too bad.  Yes, chemo awaits followed by radiation, but it is curable and believe me, I thank God each and every day for that blessing.  So many out there don’t have that hope to hold on to.  I am also on hold again until the oncologist makes contact.  And while I wait, I get to get some new hardware installed next Wednesday; my port (I think I shall name it… I’ll accept suggestions) and I get to get a jump start on meeting the Radiologist (sure hope they scheduled the right one—apparently there is one there who Dr Lynn calls a troll…. Isn’t she great!)?   So for the next few days I get to continue to take naps when I want to and eat bon bons (not really—it is a Whitman’s Sampler and most of the good stuff is gone).  Seriously, (and yes I know this is going to come back and bite me), but I am looking forward to getting back to work next Tuesday.  And even though I will be in and out with appointments, there will be a sense of normalcy in my otherwise crazy new world.