The news this week is that I got a surgery date, May 6 in Atlanta (that’s a Friday)—assuming all gets approved by the insurers. The surgery is supposed to start at noon and go at least four hours, but apparently they don’t plan to keep me overnight. Three of my excellent sisters are traveling down to be with me on Thursday, and we are staying at a hotel in Buckhead near to both the hospital (Piedmont) and the plastic surgeon,…
After a long weekend, I decided on the oncoblastic reduction, that is, assuming insurance will pay for it. This is where they do a lumpectomy and then try to get the other boob to match. It involves two surgeons in Atlanta, and I let them know I wanted to proceed, but still no surgery date. Next week I start squeaking (as in squeaky wheel): Hi, there! It’s me, and I’m still waiting. Please tell me when I can get this…
Once again, I’m going to start my blog entry by thanking people. My friend Kaleb has been helping me in many ways, not least of which is by setting up a donation site for my care. Since some of you asked for the link to donate, here it is. If you feel inclined to help out financially and can afford it, thank you for that. If you’ve already done that, I’m so grateful. And regardless, thanks for the emotional support,…
Before I forget, thank you if you messaged me. I have probably not messaged you back. The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of information, and apparently I respond to stress by going to sleep. I really appreciate the contact and I will find some way to respond to you personally really, really soon. Really. This week I have plunged into the vortex of confusing factoids and innuendo and second opinions. I have been proceeding on the hopes of…
First of all, thanks to all who have donated to my care so far. I can’t help but notice that many of you are people who probably can’t afford to donate, so thank you. I am grateful and yet ashamed to need the help. I am kicking myself for not buying cancer insurance, not getting a mammogram sooner, and not doing 20 other things, even as I am learning that kicking myself is just part of the self-torture that goes…
Dear friends, here is a note to tell you about a strange new part of my life on earth. Late last year, several people I am close to emotionally and/or adjacent to physically received cancer diagnoses. That was hard. And what made it harder was my mother’s injuries, which caused her to enter a graduated care facility. My siblings began the process of selling the house I thought of as home. I felt like I had lost my main support…