Nov. 20th-- Mom has a date for surgery

Today Zoe, Kay (mom) and I went to Morton Plant Comprehensive Breast Center and met the famou
Dr. Blumenkrantz.  At first Zoe was not really liking the man who was not warm and fuzzy. But
warmed up to him later. He is very knowledgable and from my research started the "sentinel node biopsy precedure" right at his clinic. I mentioned to him that I've heard that senior citizens are typically "undertreated" and dont' get chemo and such because they are misjudged as being too frail. He said, "That is true around the globe, but not here."  He informed me that my doctor at Moffit, worked under him as an intern before going to Moffit.  (That's funny because he assumed that she made the "undertreatment" comment and he wanted to make it clear that he has been doing this for 30 years and started while my doc was still a child  hahahah) 

OK-- the news is that mom has tripe negative cancer too.  ugh.  When she wants sympathy pains, she goes all the way!!  Dr. Blum said her mass has ductal AND lobular features and all together takes up a large area of about 4 by 5 centimeters. He recommended an MRI and Pet Scan to be viewed before surgery, but we actually made a SURGERY APPOINTMENT!  Mom will have a semi radical masectomy on her right side, and axillary node dissection (all lymph nodes removed.)
It's a rough road-- but she will pull through with flying colors!

Me- I spent all day at Moffit for tests-- a bone scan and a CT. Scan. What a production that is! 
First-- a nice enough man calls my name in the waiting room which is packed with people. Some reading, some doing the jigsaw puzzles all over the tables, some watching cnn. Most reading. Some with no hair, (chemo) some frail, some robust. Some for the first time for scans (me) others have been through this routine a half dozen times to see if their cancer is in remission.
I watch them all, I think about their families, and imagine their first diagnonsis' reaction. Were they scared like me? dumb question.

Back to the man-- I see him waving to me to follow him. He turns and asks, "birthdate?" It is their
way of identifying that they have the right person. I've never seen a hospital soooo vigilant.
He walks me back to the NUCLEAR room again. yikes!   He gives me an I.V. so that he can inject my
nuclear medicine into me. It will take three hours for it to course through my veins and show up in the Bone Scan. We joke about the "nuke" part of this whole ordeal. He is jovial.
Back in the waiting room, I wait for my "contrast drinks."  Oh joy, here they come! Three cups full of
orange blechhh!!!  "Drink one every twenty minutes ok?" I obey and let me tell you:  If I ever smell and orange crystal light or tang type drink again I will vomit!
I could barely get it all down, and it was nearing my test time. (CT first)  I was called back for my CT, and I'd been there two hours already (contrast has to go through your body.)
the CT was not a tunnel (I had checked that out two days before.) Thank you Lord. It was a doughnut
and by the time you go IN, you are coming out the other end. I went in and out of it, holding my breath and with a nurse holding an IV and injecting stuff into me the whole time for 20 minutes. All the while praying-- there's nothing there God, there's nothing there, you are my healer my redeemer. I pictured the radiologist in the room looking at the scan and thinking, "Nothing of concern here."

It was not horrific or anything. But I felt somewhat like a guinea pig in a laboratory. I pictured myself as a rat too! AT one point the nurse said to me, "Now the next injection into the IV to your arm is going to make you feel warm inside and like you are peeing your pants."  I cracked up. I said, "God forbid!" And then really prayed I wouldn't pee my pants! After all, I drank three glasses of orange blechhh.

An hour later I was on the bone scan table. The same guy who injected the nuclear stuff into my arm was
operating the bone scanner. He was great because he made me feel at ease by talking about all kinds of things, mostly all my nosy questions.  He never tired of it though. I had this 2ft by 2ft block, kind of like and x ray machine combin over my body in different ways. At one point I asked if it was going to hover over my face and for how long. He said, "Yes, but I'll be right here to guide you through it." I said you know us claustrophobics just need to know there's a way OUT. And there was. Both sides of me were open. so was the front over my legs and feet. I actually didn't panic at all when the scanner had to linger over my face for 4 minutes.  Then I did a no no.  As I was getting off the table, this silly girl looked at the scanned image of my body on his screen.  I saw some areas lit up. Two circles in my chest and my spine, and my bladder (he mentioned that himself-- that my bladder was full and lighting up.) Even though I had just gone potty!
I walked out in a daze. I have not googled what it means. I was under the impression that "lit" spots are cancer. Zoe says it means different things, a trumatized area, etc.  Needless to say I let  then enemyof FEAR grip me the rest of the night and tossed and turned.
Yay though I walk through the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil!!