Next I get to go see the surgeon to find out if this "lump of scar tissue" is a new and very unwelcome tumor or if this "tumor" is just a lump of scar tissue that is more than welcome to stay if it just behaves. Long enough sentence? It has been a long enough wait since the letter from the radiologist, which had phrases like "findings which are probably benign". A long wait - the kind where you don't want to make something more real by worrying aloud to someone else about it. Good lonely fun.
Mr. Carly, who saw the letter, swears the surgeon said something about marking her work and needing to read the images herself because no one else would know what she did where. And this is the spot with the Incredible Bursting Hematoma and the margins I had to have redone and all the good times that come with visiting nurses and open wounds.
I would hope that if it WERE a new tooomah I'd already be getting ultrasounds and more giant hollow needles shoved into me. A funny thing to hope for.
But...I have a crappy track record as far as assessing my situation. I believed the "we just need to redo images" line from 14 months ago that started this all. I believed that it wasn't cancer even as they were tunneling in with a long needle to diagnose what kind of cancer it was. I believed that I could probably get away with no chemo. And we know how that worked out.
I'm sooo not wanting to get back on the Cancer Merry-go-round. MY SISTER IS HAVING A BABY. Do you hear me, universe? I want to tickle fat baby legs this spring, not do j-drains and reconstructive surgery. I have no wish whatsoever for more chemo and chicken soup. I never want to eat chicken soup again, thank you very fucking much.
So I'm on the edge of panic, and hoping I don't take a really steep fall again. Good times.
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