I went and saw my new surgeon on Friday. Her name is June Chen. She is really nice. It almost seemed like a formality. I've spent so much time in the last year reading about the procedure and talking with other doctors and cancer patients that I really didn't have any questions for her. I'm sure I just gave her the impression that I was more than just a little clueless, because after a while she looked at me and said, "Do you need some time to think all this over." I think she was a little surprised when I immediately answered back. "No. I want this done by the end of the year. In fact, your assistant already has me pencilled in for a surgery date of November 30th."
At some point during the consultation she asked me why I wasn't going to stick with the surgeons at the Huntsman Cancer Hospital where I've received all my other treatment. I just said, "Because I've heard very good things about you." I have. When I started looking into surgeons, I came up with a list of top three. Massey was number one, she was number two, and I still have one backup. Though I'm really hoping I don't have to go there. I'm so tired of all this.
I did reach a new low that day though. I thought I lost all sense of dignity that day of my first breast MRI when I walked into the room and saw three big guys waiting for me. Well, when you compare that with standing in a small room in front of a total stranger with no clothes on, in my post-chemo, post-steroids, post-second worst year of my life body, while she snaps about 30 pictures with her digital camera... Well, let's just say, it wasn't the most ego boosting moment of my life.
1 comment:
Love all your posts. Hang in there and GOOD LUCK! I had to chuckle at your comments about the camera. It happened to me once at the dermatologist. They couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. They had three doctors working on it. They took two biopsies. All three of them were in the room with me whilst I stood in my birthday suit with my arms and legs spread wide. They circled around me snapping pictures. Something about the "group setting" and the flash of the digital camera screamed at me, "This is WRONG!" I don't even like pictures when I'm clothed.
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