When I got off phone with Diagnostic Radiologist, Dr Rose with whom my boob spent many intimate hours last week I was already sure that he was the nicest man I ever got really bad news from.
I’m trying to grasp the words Invasive Lobular Carcinoma
An hour later he’d worked miracles-made call himself & got me in with his old friend & surgeon on Friday @7:30am. Going to downtown DC at the crack of dawn and I’m not complaining? It’s a miracle.
Last Thursday Dr Zapp greased the wheels with Washington Radiology and slid me into spend the afternoon with Doc Rose.
Now this? I appreciate that docs are phoning other to get me seen NOW. At the same time when they take it so seriously it becomes a little more scary
I talked to the surgeon’s office to confirm and asked about where he practices. Looks like Sibley, Georgetown or GeorgeWashington - probably the week before Christmas.
Friday. I must keep breathing until Friday.
My twitter friens are being amazing, with support in multiple forms from people I seem to hardly know, but do feel close to and a kinship with. Though I told them today that I believe all will end well, with much growth for many, it’s still not a path I wish to walk. But here I find myself.
I felt actually better today than I have in 6 months. Maybe endorphins kicking in or the love people who live inside my computer - and my docs - are showing me. The social networks are an intergral part of the net that keeps me from tumbling, crashing to the ground in a heap.