Sitting in the dr. office this afternoon for the "No big deal" post op, I felt confident that in fact the little bugger of a surgery would be "no big deal." As I sat and waited for the dr. to come in, I glanced around the sterile room. My mind focused entirely on getting out of there and back to work...I mean, I have things to do. This little visit should be quick.
My eyes take in the room. The counter tops are covered with baby stuff - or rather anti baby stuff. I'm slightly amused with the "models" they have on the counter top. The calendar is of babys, the pamphlets are all about either having or not having a baby. Everything around me is about having kids. Naturally. And somewhat ironically.
There's a soft knock on the door and in walks Doc. She seems a bit apprehensive, but she starts jabbering on asking me how I felt after the surgery. We banter back and forth about the entire process and finally she clears her throat. "I've received the pathology report."
Something in me felt cold. I had a bad feeling about what was coming next. My hands were suddenly clammy and I was sure my face was white as snow.
She smiles softly and proceeds to tell me about the results. She mutters off large words that are incomprehensible to me. I nod politely and act as if I understand what she's saying. I remind myself to pay attention as I am immediately taken back to my semester in Mexico where I simply nodded yes regardless of what I understood. It didn't have any real consequences then, but it could now.
I tell myself to focus and get back into the conversation just to hear the words "pre-cancerous". Wait what? I'm too young for the C word. She did not just say the C word?
Shaking my head I ask her go over that one more time, and please use words a 2 year old would understand. She proceeds to explain about atypia cells. They are just abnormal cells, that may or may not be cancerous.
The bottom line is this...I have to make a decision about how to proceed. I have two options. One of which isn't at all something I think I want to do. Which leaves option 2. Option 2, not something I thought a 40 year old would have done.
Still, as she wrote down the pathology report terms and a phone number for a referral to an - gulp - oncologist I found myself suddenly a bit numb.
The "C" word and the "O" word in one day. Surely that just proves my point in the title of this blog.
I must have appeared like death warmed over because she patted my hand and said she was merely referring me to these doctors as they specialize in a "robotic" method and wants me to discuss my options with them.
Right so nothings cancerous now. But could be. Maybe or Maybe not in the future. How does one make a decision based on that?
In the end, I toddle off to the car I'm playing the visit over and over in my mind. Freaked out to say the least, I pour myself into my car. Comforted by the warmth of the Stang and the really bad 80's tune. I take a moment and breath. Closing my eyes to really think about what just happened. And I did what any normal woman would do after this type of doctor's visit....
... I drove to Starbucks!
1 comments:
I would have driven to Starbucks too! And I would have even let myself get a snack and not just coffee!
Seriously though, I hope everything is ok and the docs are just being cautious and working hard to give you the best possible treatment. Take care.
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