Even as a 3 year old, I had no aspirations to be a nurse when I grew up. I came close to convincing my last family doctor that I was a Christian Scientist, and he pretty well gave me my head about what tests I wanted to have (zero. nada, no way)
Now I'm paying for it.
|That's our hospital. Yesterday I went to the medical building in front (can't be seen in this photo which was taken from the medical building in back)|
I'd decided not to go into the details of yesterday's appointment and then I read the latest comments on yesterday's blog. Joanne's uttered appreciation for the medical reports came close to changing my mind and then I read that even worldly-wise Ted in Minnesota had his fingers crossed and I couldn't just leave him that way......it might interfere with his taking the daily picture of Lake George, so here I be with an update.
When I say my prayers, what I ask for is courage. And I came through the hour yesterday with the equivalent of a stiff upper lip. The growth is large......nearly the size of a tennis ball......the next step is to see if it's metastasized (I couldn't manage that one without the dictionary). I need to go to a hospital in Pasadena to have an MRI of the breast (excuse me, gentlemen, but modesty is at a minimum here). "Will I have to go into a tube?" I asked, for I think claustrophobia may be present in my latter years. "No, you'll lie on your stomach wearing something much like what Madonna wore", was the answer. I can hardly wait.
And a chest x-ray. And blood work. And surgery. And then a recommendation of how to go forward......radiation, chemotherapy or a combination of the two. And then the drum roll as I make my decision.
One thing he stressed was not to ignore it and then three months down the road changing my mind when the condition starts to get ugly.
When I had my clothes back on and buttoned, Tim was called in and it was all explained again. Even the second time around, it was more than the mind could absorb.
Once out of the medical building, we eased ourselves into the van and Tim drove us to a restaurant where we gorged ourselves on BLT pasta and key lime pie.
Should this medical saga be continued?
"My mother didn't really cook. But she did
make key lime pie, until the day the top of
the evaporated milk container accidentally
ended up in the pie and she decided cooking
took too much concentration." William Norwich