It's been a month already

Day Thirty – Saturday

One month since we found the lump. It’s still there and I’m still waiting. I hate waiting.

Day Thirty-one – Sunday

I got a call from my sister-in-law, Boneda, to ask if I needed to get out of the house. Yes, yes, I do. It was a beautiful day – lovely Arizona winter afternoon. She was in the market for a piece of furniture and I was in the market for a lovely Arizona winter afternoon. At least one of us got what we wanted.

Day Thirty-two – Monday

Got a phone call from the support group called “Winning Together” for women who have survived or are undergoing treatment for women’s cancer. These groups are wonderful. I feel they are as much a part of survival as the medicine. The meetings are every Friday morning at the University of Arizona Medical Center and the women usually go to the cafeteria for lunch afterward. I asked if spouses could attend. “Yes, but they usually don’t come back.” Apparently, the women of this group are pretty honest and men are not as comfortable talking about lady parts as women are. So there is a support group for the men also. I think that’s great. The spouses can voice their feelings without worrying about hurting their wives’ feelings and have some male bonding time. Win-Win.

I also received a call from the radiologist who wanted to schedule my breast MRI. I said that I would not be doing that because of my extreme claustrophobia unless I was asleep. They said they couldn’t give me anything to “knock me out”, but perhaps a Xanax. I know me and that won’t work. 

Funny thing about Tucson – most doctors here don’t believe in a comfortable environment for their patients. Case in point – when I had Mohs Surgery to remove a Basil Cell on my chest in Rapid City, my doctor gave me two pills to put under my tongue. The surgery took 3 hours and I was in na-na land the whole time. When my husband had Mohs Surgery in Tucson, no such drug would be administered because they ran patients in and out of the surgical room like a factory. Slice some, go to the waiting room, wait for results, slice some, go to the waiting room, wait for results and so on. You just can’t have people in na-na land moving about in the office, so no drugs were administered. I’m all for patient comfort vs. doctor’s pocket book. I had a friend who had an MRI in Rapid City and was given the same under the tongue drug and was fine. Here – nope. Just suck it up. I called the doctor’s office and told them I would not be doing the MRI unless there was a very compelling reason for it and he never called me back. I guess there wasn’t a compelling reason enough.

I called Tri-Care to ask questions about catastrophic caps. Every time we need Tri-Care, I thank my husband for doing his 20 years, 5 months, and 13 fun filled days in the Air Force. They are a God send. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.

Day Thirty-three – Tuesday

Sad day. Feeling depressed. Not deeply depressed, but enough that I don’t want to be around people.

Day Thirty-four – Wednesday

Okay, one day of depression is enough. I met my friend, Kat, at the mall and had a wonderful time. There were lots of sales and I am a huge believer in not paying full price for anything. I found the perfect coffee mug at Norma Jeans. It’s pink.  Inside the rim of the cup, it reads “Think Happy Thoughts”. On one side of the cup it reads “Pause if you must, but don’t stop believing” and on the other side of the cup it reads “Everything will be OK. Believe it!” I love this cup.

Kat and I walked the mall talking and scooping up bargains. When we arrive at Macy’s, we go upstairs to the bathroom which happens to be in the bra department. Suddenly, I feel myself start to tear up and my mind says “I really have cancer. I am really going to lose my breasts. This is really happening.” I pull myself together quickly and make a joke about getting a cup size larger when I have the reconstruction, but I’m kind of…….not really scared…..it’s like reality hit me with a stick. You never know when that will happen or why, it just does. It passes, but it’ll be back. Humor and love got me through cancer twice and I hope they will get me through this one.