7 April 2013

Waiting for DIEP

My oncologist told me that the further one gets from cancer treatment, the less enthusiastic they are about becoming a patient again. Well, no kidding.

I feel so nearly normal. Apart from the wild mood swings, night sweats, Buddah belly, deformed boob, and mild lymphedema, it’s like nothing every happened! According to Winona Judd, ‘Normal is just a cycle on a washing machine’. So I’m just as normal as I can be, and the thought of slipping into a hospital gown and walking into surgery seems like somebody else’s life. Not mine.

So I need to move forward. The wait for this surgery has gone on too long. It dangles in front of me like a carrot and as I move forward so does the date. Until recently, I’ve been happy to look at it from a distance; secretly hoping the day would never come. I’ve deliberately been running at medium speed but now it’s time to sprint ahead,  and put the damn carrot in the rear view mirror.

So I emailed my surgeon’s office and told them that it’s been almost a year since radiation, and I need to know what’s going on. Thirty seconds later, (Ping!) I received an email from Dr. Escargot saying  ‘I’ll work on it’.  Surprisingly, he didn’t say there’s ‘no rush’, nor did he say the usual stuff about scheduling being up to the other surgeon's office. Normally his secretary gives me a little speech about the difficulty of scheduling two surgeons and an OR room for an entire day. But Dr Escargot said none of that. The snail was taking action.

Twenty minutes later Dr Plastic Surgeon’s office called, and said they are making calls and would get back to me shortly.  So I sat in front of my computer, waiting for the Ping on my computer indicating that I had mail. But it never came.

But I needed an answer before the weekend.  Waiting isn’t working for me anymore. So I called the PS’s office, and his kind secretary gave me an update. She told me that they’d proposed two dates to Escargot, without any success. But, there was a third option she was proposing, and was waiting to hear back.

‘And what date might that be?’ I asked.

‘May 9’ she said.

Sounds perfect. I want that date. I should know by tomorrow. Fingers crossed.

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