Flexibility is the name of the game

Well, it's been a week since I last posted and I don't have much news because I had to RE-SCHEDULE MY SURGERY yesterday due to coming down with "the bug" that was passed on to me from my daughter and husband (not that I'm blaming anyone, mind you).

Although I was bummed out to have to postpone the surgery, I am relieved that I don't have to recuperate from a bad cold and surgery at the same time.

My new surgery date has been set for Monday, October 6th. Just in time for my daughter's 18th birthday (October 8th) and my 52nd birthday on October 11th. I hope I'm in the mood for celebrating by the end of that week. :~)

My next "cancer" appointment is Tuesday, September 30th at Swedish Hospital. I will meet with a female oncologist for a second opinion. I fully expect her to recommend chemo (I've been reading up on my stats). I admit that I probably have unrealistically high expectations that I will "click" with her better than the male oncologist in Mount Vernon.

What bugs me about this male oncologist is that during both of my appointments, he put off answering some of my questions, once deferring to the radiologist and the other time stating that I can save some of my questions for when I get "further down the road."

Is it just me? I want my questions--no matter how far down the road I may be looking---to be answered! I want to know what's on my plate, bub!

Maybe he doesn't understand that people like me have a need to know and we are caused more anxiety by NOT KNOWING. Even if details are sketchy (and sometimes I prefer them that way, especially when it comes to chemo side effects), I need to know something.

What he's effectively done by not answering all of my questions is put me at the mercy of the vast universe of the Internet where I am prey to every fear-eliciting statistic known to man.

My hope is that the female oncologist will consider no question "too far down the road" and that she will intuitively tune into me and take every single concern of mine seriously. Is that too much to ask? Maybe, I don't know. This whole cancer business is new to me.

I came across a blog yesterday that absolutely riveted me. The author is a woman who was diagnosed and treated for breast cancer two years ago at the age of 40. She had the same Oncotype score as me (27), which is how I found her blog (I searched for "Oncotype score+27" and her blog came up).

Anyway, I swear she could be my twin. Well, except that she's a lesbian. And except that she doesn't believe in God. But OTHER than that, I really appreciated her take on things, her writing, and her humor.

I read all about her chemo treatments (same number and drugs that are being recommended for me) and was discouraged to learn how brutal it was for her. Nevertheless, she had plenty of pluck and it came through in her blog (not to say that I have all of her pluck; I hope some of hers rubs off on me).

I've written a couple times on my blog about the things that people have said to me since my diagnosis. I continue to be amazed, humbled, and humored by people.

This woman (my twin sister from a different mother) wrote about the very same thing, only much more eloquently than myself. I want to share a few of her entries because I think they are that good.

I hope you'll take the time to read them. Boy, could I relate to each one of these entries! I just couldn't say any of it better than her:

What Not To Say To Someone Who's Been Diagnosed With Cancer

What You Should Do Is This

Cancer: The Cross-Examination Round

Positive Attitudes: All Powerful . . . Or Maybe Just Warm and Cozy?

Oh, how I loved reading her posts and feeling an inward, "Amen, sistah!" She also wrote about the notebook binder that the cancer center gave her during her first appointment (I received one as well). She called it the "You've Got Cancer" binder. Too funny!

I plan to bring my "You've Got Cancer" binder with me to every appointment. It comes complete with the requisite Rainbow-Screened-Behind-The-Hospital-Logo on the cover. (Too bad that everytime I look at it I am reminded of "The Rainbow Bridge.") Sheesh.

Anyway, if I get lost at Swedish Hospital, one look at that binder and they'll know exactly where to send me.