Dry Toast

My surgery is scheduled for 4PM next Tuesday, and will be preceded by the dreaded wire localization, which is by far the worst thing I’ve had done over the past year. Really. The procedure is used to locate what the doctor needs to remove when it’s something too small to be felt. It involves first sticking a needle in the breast to inject numbing medicine. That hurts, but it’s necessary because the next step is injecting dye into the spot to be removed. The dye is very painful. And this is all guided by ultrasound, so the ultrasound wand is also being pressed into the area in question at the same time. But wait, there’s more…after that, a wire is inserted through the needle (does that give you any idea how freakin’ big the needle is?) and hooked into the spot. The other end is flopping around on the outside like a CB antenna. Anybody remember the theme from Convoy? (“Now we’ve got a great big convoy, rockin’ through the night…”) They tape the wire down and just about the time you think you’re done they lead you to the mammogram machine.

I’m no weenie, but this was traumatic enough for me that I A) had to lay down for a while because I was literally about to fall out, and B) had a meltdown immediately upon leaving the place to check in for surgery. Needless to say, I’m NOT looking forward to doing this again.

To make the potential for meltdown even worse, I am not allowed to eat all day. Pam, at Dr Schmidt’s office, told me I could have a piece of dry toast at 7AM. The question is…why would I want to? A piece of dry toast would not pacify my stomach. In fact, I’m pretty sure that it would only make it angry. I’m allowed to have clear liquids up until 11:30, though, which is some consolation, because I’m pretty sure iced tea is a clear liquid. If you disagree, I don’t want to hear it.

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I had a follow-up with Dr Haerr yesterday. I started to tell him about the upcoming surgery and he already knew. He thought maybe Dr B had sent him a note, but I told him I wasn’t sure that Dr B even knew about it yet. Dr H looked through my chart, and wondered aloud how he knew that. Then he said, “Did you put that in your blog?” I just started laughing. Actually, Dr Haerr has never visited my blog, but Kelly the radiation therapist does, so in spite of the fact that she blew off the email I sent her, she’s evidently filled him in. (Yeah, Kelly, I’m talkin’ about you.)

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