On Thursday last week I got a second opinion. It was actually an identical opinion to the first one, so the only thing second about it was the order. I still have cancer (I wasn’t actually thinking that part would change). The tumor that is the nastiest is still oddly shaped, so taking even just that would mean losing the bottom 1/3, at least, of my right breast. The DCIS toward the center still makes surgeons want to take the whole breast. The tiny benign lumps toward the top still bring no one much joy or solace. Here we are.
I will say that I like this doctor very much. She strikes me as someone who has lived a life knowing that she is always the smartest person in the room. That’s my kind of doctor. Still, perhaps because she’s a woman, she did not dismiss any of my personal efforts at trying to get my health in order. She was not dismissive in any way. She answered all of my questions as though I was at least maybe the second or third smartest person in the room. I left feeling like she should be my surgeon person, which meant, of course, that there would be a wait to have her treat me. Dr. Smartest will not be free tomorrow.
I still felt okay. Actually, I felt a little lighter for the rest of the day. Maybe coming to terms with the very real likelihood that I will be under the knife soon, like it or not, settled something in my mind. I abandoned google and the Facebook cancer groups for two whole days. I spent a day playing activist with my daughter. I’d say, other than thinking about what to eat and drink and take, I barely thought of cancer for those two days.
Then Sunday I was trying to figure out how to get CBD oil (cannabis) and an MM card in Florida (I still don’t know), when I read a post by a woman dealing with bone mets in her ribs. She described the feeling in her ribs as an ache like a deep bruise. Ive been having intermittent pain in my ribs on the right, under the tumor site. At first, I thought I pulled something, but it didn’t really feel like a pull. I feel it more when I reach up high, it aches but doesn’t really pull like a muscle. On Thursday I didn’t bring it up with Dr. Smartest because I hadn’t felt it in days, makes sense that it would return on Saturday. So, now I have to call docs and see if anyone will do a CT scan or something for me.
Back to google we go. Back to the phone. I hate the phone.
Some days I’m just not laughing. I’m just not funny. I can’t go on and do the dishes and the laundry and make my smoothie and think about something else. Some days I’m just sad. Even though I’ve been told that my attitude is important here in Cancerville, some days are too hard. I can’t help but think about the worst possible outcomes. I can’t help but think every word I say to my kids this year should be carefully chosen. I can’t help but think I’m somehow wasting precious, precious time. It’s unreal and it’s painfully real at once. I don’t really know what to do with that today.