Thinking of traveling for my reconstruction surgery

I had an appointment yesterday to meet with the plastic surgeon I met with in December. Unfortunately, I arrived late for my appointment (somehow I wrote the time down wrong) and I had to reschedule. I managed to snag an appointment for a week later, but my heart is really making me think that maybe this was a sign for me to really search for a surgeon I feel better about.

Although this particular plastic surgeon comes highly recommended by my oncologist and my first general surgeon... I'm really not digging her. At. All.

It took a few weeks for me to realize that the procedure I had researched on line, and had gone to the initial consultation to discuss, she never offered me. At the time, I didn't pay a lot of attention to the fact that we were discussing the TRAM flap procedure versus the DIEP procedure. But now that I have more time to think and reflect, I realize that I was about to settle for a procedure I don't really want to have.

That makes me a little angry, ya know?

I'll tell you why. Its one thing if I am told that, for medical reasons, I cannot have a particular procedure or medication. I can accept that. My body is unique and everything just won't work for everybody. However, it is a totally different thing to be told (or rather NOT TOLD that there are other options for your care) because the doctor does not have the ability to perform them.

Both procedures take tissue (fat, skin, etc.) from your abdomen area and use that to construct a breast mound. The TRAM flap is an older procedure and it cuts through your muscle in your abdomen. The DIEP procedure does pretty much the same thing, but it doesn't require that the muscle be cut which means that you heal faster and you're less likely to lose core strength (or develop a hernia). However, the DIEP procedure does require a lot more micro-surgery on the blood vessels. There aren't very many doctors in the country who perform this procedure.

I was just watching a video on-line of the DIEP procedure being done (and yes, it was GROSS) but watching it made me realize that no matter what procedure I choose to have, I'm going to go through a really major surgery. If I'm going to put myself in a situation where I'm risking so much, I really need to go for exactly what I want.

I'm starting to realize -- as frightening as learning breast cancer is -- I really could have (and probably should have) slowed down a lot in accepting my treatments and my surgery options. I don't know if they would have been different had I waited a little while and researched a little more. But I do know that I might not feel like second-guessing whether I've done the right things so far. I'm really second-guessing a lot right now. (the mild swelling in my left arm is really making me take notice that I still have a responsibility to myself to make sure that I take an active role in my treatment)

So, the missed appointment on Thursday gave me lots of free time to think about whether or not I really want to have this lady cut on me. I have not had a good experience yet in dealing with her office and I found her less than personable and far from friendly. Not that either of those personality traits reflect on her surgical abilities. But (maybe its me)... I want to LIKE the people who are treating my body. Cancer is invasive enough, do I have to feel further removed from feeling "whole-ness" by dealing with medical staff that I don't like?

At any rate... one of my "pink ribbon sisters" on facebook, recently wrote a blog entry about her most recent surgery experience. She has an implant and had to have it removed/replaced because of an infection or something. She traveled to Louisiana to have the surgery. And as I read that, I had to wonder would I be willing to do the same. In the early days of my diagnosis, I had many people recommend the Cancer Treatment Centers of America to me. (They do have some powerful commercials) But as I looked into it, I immediately dismissed it because the closest center to me is in Philadelphia, PA. I didn't want to travel every week, or every other week to Philly for treatments. Especially not when I knew there were very good hospitals here in the DC metro area that I could go to. But... this surgery presents a real challenge for me.

There is ONE doctor in this area who performs this surgery. And he's at Georgetown University. I have put a call in to his office (today in fact) to try to schedule a consultation -- but I haven't gotten through yet. I will go to the appointment with the cranky lady next week. But I am crossing my fingers (and asking you to do the same) that I can get in with this Georgetown doctor. If not, I will be looking for plastic surgeons around the nation who can perform this procedure.

Traveling for medical care. Hmph. Never thought it would come to this but if this is what it takes for me to get back to feeling whole... I'm going to have to get with it. I have no idea how I'm going to afford this. Guess I need to get on my knees... and quickly.

[Video of DIEP breast reconstruction procedure]

...of course, I just read something that suggests that the DIEP procedure might not be better than the TRAM procedure. Grr....

Why isn't there a blueprint for all of this stuff? Which way do I go?

DIEP Flap info[DIEP Flap information]



how breast cancer is affecting my issues with men


I went to dinner with a college girlfriend on Sunday evening. We had not seen each other in years (life gets in the way sometimes). But y'all know the story... cancer changes things. (smile) When she sent me an email the other day asking if I wanted to get together, I made sure that I made it happen. I knew that my cancer was really hard for her. I wanted her to see that I was doing okay. Plus it was good to just catch up and laugh... and an even better excuse to go to this fabulous new restaurant that I'm just in love with.

So, while talking about everything under the sun we started talking about relationships and men. She asked if I thought that having cancer scared men away from me, or if the way that I was handling having cancer scared men away. (We had been discussing how I was trying to handle the bulk of my treatment/doctor visits/etc. by myself)

I told her that I felt that the opposite was true. While I have my concerns with dating, I am realizing slowly that guys seem to be rather understanding of the situation. I have found that when I reveal that I have breast cancer, if the guy was sincerely interested in me his interest stayed the same.

It seems that the one with the problem is Nicole.

Here's the truth: I realized a short time ago that I have real trust issues with men.

Yes, I know that sounds horrible. Its not that I think that all men are bad. I know they aren't. I just feel that sometimes people start things that they are not able to complete, for lots of reasons (usually good ones reasons too). Being disappointed, heart broken and ultimately let down... scares me. I worry that I will be left hanging by someone who "meant" well... but ultimately was not prepared to really go the distance. I will accept that this bothers me because it is a reflection of how I feel about myself. I often feel that I should just stay single, not put my trust in someone else's hands. Just skip the risk of being let down.


The real question though is what sort of life is that? Navigating life alone because I'm afraid of getting my heart broken... seems like a real waste. Its truly not what I want. (shrug)

Here's where breast cancer is showing me things. Life cannot be carried the way I want it to be all the time. No matter how much I try to prepare myself for the unexpected -- life will throw you a curve ball and you simply have to be ready to adjust your stance. There's no getting around it.

Waking up one day and feeling a lump in your breast is a major curve ball. Waking up one day months later, weak from chemotherapy, bald all over and tired like you've run a marathon course... is a major curve ball. And so on. I've learned to navigate these switches in direction -- not easily, but I've managed to do it.

I do not want to live the rest of my life alone. But at the same time, I am absolutely terrified of putting my feelings, emotions and everything else on the line and end up disappointed. Again. I am such a punk. (laughs) But I am truly working on it.

I don't know. Dating was crazy and hard before breast cancer. I thought I had figured out (just before my diagnosis) what my issues were with dating. I thought that I had commitment issues. And I was working on that. But now, I don't think that's totally it. My issue isn't being unable to commit to someone... its believing that someone can and will be willing to commit to me. Today, my issue is compounded by the fact that (God-willing) I will be living with the after-effects of having breast cancer for the rest of my life. There will always be some concern, some fear... some nagging something that will linger around my life and have to be dealt with head-on.

It sucks but its real.

The question that lingers is... if it was hard to accept that someone could stick with me through my craziness, my mood swings, my very "Nicole-ness" before cancer... my goodness, who is that man who will be willing to take on that PLUS millions of doctor visits, unexpected medical bills, fatigue, body changes and so on? This is REAL LIFE STUFF and its serious.

I think that I've been forced to face my own erroneous ways of looking at and appreciating men thanks to my cancer. They aren't all shallow and self-serving all the time. They don't always think "penis-first"... Breast cancer has given me some truly tender moments with various men in my life. From my cousins calling to check on me every week during my chemotherapy days, to my ex-boyfriend literally holding my hand during my early appointments... to my god-brother making sure that I got out of the house every so often just to have some fun. My dad made some oatmeal for me one day months ago because it was one of the few things I could eat and taste. He made it and carried it up to my bedroom so that I didn't have to walk to the kitchen. Don't let me forget the virtual friends I've made through twitter and facebook, who have checked on me regularly, sent me jokes or little notes of encouragement... little things like that.

It has certainly forced me to take a long look at myself and think about things differently. I wonder whether its unrealistic for me to still want someone to love. My heart says no but my head... just hasn't completely caught up yet.


It just dawned on me what the lesson in this (for love) might be for me. Just as I am fragile and beautifully human, men are too. If I can expect a man to see me and still see some beauty, then I should be able to do the same. Rather than expect or demand that "he" be perfect in his love for me, I need to work on accepting the beauty of his very human (sometimes disappointing, most times not) love for me. Rather than try to force his love to my vision -- I'll need to look at the love he gives me and appreciate it for its very uniqueness in my life.

Damn. It took me 40 years and breast cancer to figure that out?

Sheesh.

sigh... Ok. Let's go! Love is out there... let's get with it. :)

ohmygoodness... constipation? yuck

Sigh.

This post has already embarrassed me and I haven't even written it yet. But I promised myself that I would be honest and open about what I'm going through and this is something that I have to talk about. Its something that the women who will come behind may want to know and be prepared for.

Constipation.

I'm going to try not to be graphic with this one because well... eww... we're talking about "down there". (laughs)

I may have mentioned months back that my treatment makes me constipated. Well, my oncologist told me months ago to be sure to take stool softeners to help with the constipation and to be sure to increase my fiber intake as necessary. Well, I have to admit, I gave up on those stool softeners awhile back. Not that they bothered me or anything but honestly, the constant motion of putting pills in my mouth... all day, every doggone day... has gotten so tired that I try to eliminate taking anything that I don't feel that I can't live without.

For example... my back pain is still here and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Since I can't live on percocet and now that my oncologist has freaked me out about taking tylenol everyday... I rarely take anything for the pain. At least not while I'm at home. If I'm going out, I'll take some aleve or advil and keep it moving. But while I'm at home, I rest with a heating pad on my back. Its corny and it makes me feel like an old woman -- BUT I'm not throwing pills down my throat. (shrug) That's something for me.

So... after the mastectomy, when I was feeling more like myself... I stopped taking the stool softeners. I figured that I didn't need them as much anymore. Don't ask me why I felt that way -- I just did. I mean, I was going okay and I felt okay so... less pills going down my throat. Seemed like a good thing.

MAN! Wrong. A little red on the tissue alerted me that I have hemorrhoids. (yuck)

Ain't nothing like seeing blood in your toilet to shake you up a bit. Luckily google is my friend, so I researched what it most likely meant and acted accordingly. My mother told me that she had hemorrhoids while pregnant and that they aren't that unusual or even painful sometimes. But they do occur and they are easily treated. And google proved her to be right. (laughs)

I have NOT mentioned this to my oncologist yet for a number of reasons. One, I am learning that as much as I love Dr. S, he can be prescription happy. Two, he is an oncologist, a cancer doctor. And that is ALL that he is. Anything outside of the realm of cancer and he's a little ... well, clueless. Not entirely clueless but his answers typically include a little pad and his illegible signature. Three, I do not want to take any more pills than necessary. Seriously. Four, as gross as this is to me, it doesn't seem to be indicative of anything serious at all. After the fiasco about my back (MRI's, x-rays, percocets and finally an offer to recommend me to a back specialist)... I'm good. I am not in pain. And from what I've read and what my mom told me... as long as things are not hanging out (double yuck) I'm okay.

So, you guessed it. I'm back on stool softeners. And I'll be taking some old fashioned sitz baths until I'm on the mend. (laughs) I swear, every day, every week, something else jumps off that makes me feel like I'm leaping into old age. Sitz baths? (sigh) Actually its not that different from what I do to ease my aches after chemo (or a long day). A little epsom salt really is helpful. I usually soak with epsom salts for a couple of days after chemo to sort of help remove some of that "medicine smell" from my body. Epsom salts help to draw out the toxins in your body... and now I know they can also help with healing hemorrhoids. (laughs)

Before any of you get upset or worried about this... its really not horrible. Basically it means that I was slacking on my pimping... and I got a little backed up.

Ha. Bet you never thought you'd learn that about me. Actually, by the time you read this post, I'll probably be over this hurdle. I'm going to delay the publishing of this for a little while -- just so that I don't break out in a deep blush the next time somebody mentions my blog to me.

Lesson for all the kiddies: Eat your fiber and drink lots of water. It really is good for you.

But if you should end up with hemorrhoids or just really constipated... fear not. Its not that serious and you can treat them without a prescription.

Thank God for small favors. :)

Make tonight beautiful... [A tribute to men who love women with breast cancer]


Make tonight beautiful (a tribute to men who love women with breast cancer) | My Fabulous Boobies

*This post contains affiliate links. That means that if you make a purchase through those links, this blog will receive a commission. 

I'm watching "Waiting to Exhale"... for the millionth time. I read this book YEARS ago when it came out. And I watched the movie when it came out a few years later. I remember thinking then that the story was overly dramatic. And for a woman in her 20's... it was. (laughs)

Now, as I watch it from an older woman's perspective I appreciate so much more of the story. I better understand the nuances of the friendships and the angst that each woman is going through. But... this post isn't totally about Waiting to Exhale... as it is about one small character. A character you never see, never hear from but who just made me pause for a moment of reflection. Breast cancer.

Wesley Snipes plays a character who is married to a woman dying of breast cancer. The last few times I've watched this movie, I've been really drawn to his character and his relationship with his wife. Even though he meets Angela Bassett in a hotel bar and basically begins an emotional relationship with her... he comes off (a little) like a victim in the movie. Because his wife is dying of breast cancer.

He speaks of her with reverence and love. He talks about her struggle, her efforts to be strong for him. He doesn't apologize for her illness or make excuses for loving her. Neither does he make excuses for not wanting to divorce her.

Its admirable and disconcerting.

Life is full of so many gray areas. Watching a man (even a fictitious character) engage with a woman who isn't his wife -- yet not feeling any anger toward him for finding a way to meet his own needs is odd. You're supposed to dislike the man who cheats on his wife. But somehow I can't do that. He's so human, so raw and so very open -- I find it fascinating and enthralling. To know that a man can love a woman that much, that even in her darkest hour he sees some beauty within her is nice.

At one point in the movie, he sends a love letter to Angela Bassett basically talking about his love for his wife. I know, crazy huh? But it works.


I hate that cancer and specifically breast cancer is like the great 'boogey man' in so many stories and movies. It makes it that much harder to cope with having the disease. Breast cancer is like a ghost who is constantly whipping my behind... and I can't swing back, can't really defend myself against the attacks. But I feel the after effects every day.

For a few weeks now I have wanted to write a post about how men love their women through their breast cancer struggles. I can "see" how my father, male friends, male relatives and even my ex-boyfriend struggle to cope with my illness. But I do not really know what goes on in their minds.

I met a guy on-line -- through a friend's suggestion because his mother is a breast cancer survivor and is currently in treatment for ovarian cancer -- who makes me pause often to think about just how hard this disease is on the men in a breast cancer patient's life. I've never met him, probably never will, but there is a reverence that exists in emails to me regarding his mother's journey with cancer that reminds me of my dad and my male friends a little.

Its difficult to explain really. I also met a man (a minister) on twitter whose wife has breast cancer. She just started her chemo and he posts every so often about how she's doing and what she's going through. His posts have that same awe in them that reminds me of Wesley Snipe's character in the movie.

Click this picture to rent/buy the movie from Amazon
It is hard having breast cancer. It is difficult feeling like I have to throw off my superwoman cape and trust that my medical team is doing all that they can do to ensure that I come out of this struggle as healthy and whole as I can be. But how much more difficult is it for men to watch the women in their lives struggle with something that they can't fix, or take away? Men are conditioned to desire to take care of the women they love -- daughters, wives, sisters, and friends. But in dealing with breast cancer, they can't DO anything, except be there and be faithful to their love and concern for that woman. And I suppose, pray that their support (in whatever way they give it) is enough to help her get through it all.

I am a daddy's girl. We look alike and everything. One of these days I want to sit down with my dad and ask him how he feels about me and his sister struggling with breast cancer. Not sure if I'll get the answers that I'm looking for, but I will ask. Because I really want to know.


Wesley Snipes's character talks about how his wife's struggle with breast cancer inspires him. I have had a few of my male friends tell me that I am their "shero" because of my battle with breast cancer. Every time one of them tells me that, I squirm a little. I don't feel that I'm doing anything heroic. I am simply trying to survive. But I think that I need to learn to embrace that compliment because it is a rare and beautiful thing indeed.

I think that discovering a strength that I didn't know I had, in the midst of being the frailest I've ever been as an adult is a beautiful thing. I hope that this beauty continues to inspire men to love the women they know (and those they don't know) who are dealing with this illness.

That's all I can really hope for.

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let's connect-brown


(where we discuss the breast cancer life)
(where I discuss any and everything!)
(be inspired, laugh a little, follow my crazy life)

just needed to say it again...


Hot flashes are for the doggone birds!!

Another hot and sweaty night. Five years of this? Oh well... before I get too down on myself, I am reminded that five more years of night sweats is five more years of life too.

Guess I can deal.

Hope you're having (or had) a good night's rest. If so... say a thank you to the Creator for that small miracle.

Living with "30"


I've hesitated to write this blog posting for awhile. Not completely sure why but now is a good time to get it out.

You may remember that I wanted to talk to my oncologist about my chances for cancer recurrence. When Fran died, it took a lot of wind out of me. This sister was set to guide me through this maze of confusion and she passed away before we had a chance to meet. It still makes me cry to think about how fast she was gone. Never met her and she has impacted my life in a major way.

Prior to Fran's death, I knew that for some of us on the cancer journey it might become a repeat performance. But I wasn't intimately snuggled with that knowledge... in my heart, I mean. I knew it logically but in my heart it still was a distant thought. (much like breast cancer was a year ago) Fran's death changed the deal for me and I needed to know more about cancer coming back to my body.

My first meeting with Dr. S was sidetracked because I mentioned my back pain and he and his staff got off on that tangent. You'll be happy to know that my current back pain and spasms have nothing to do with cancer. It seems that I have a touch of arthritis.

...sigh. (laughs)

On my second visit to Dr. S, to discuss all the tests he made me take, I remembered to ask him about my chances for recurrence. Normally, Dr. S is a very happy kind of guy. But my question made him pause. He looked at my paperwork for a long time. I don't know if he was trying to get his words right or actually reading up on my history.

But he told me that I have a 30% chance of recurrence. He said that because I responded so well to the chemotherapy he felt that I would do well but he also said that he couldn't lie to me and tell me that there wasn't a possibility at all.

At the time, I shed a couple of tears but I felt a bit relieved. I thought all that day that "I could live with 30". My mom and I discussed it and she felt that (to paraphrase) it was time for me to take the training wheels off and live life full out. (She didn't say that exactly, but that's how I interpreted it)

Whatever it is that I want to do... I need to do it. A 30% chance of recurrence isn't bad. Its better than a 70% chance, you know? But there is definitely a chance that I'll be fighting this battle again.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. With my cancer-verisary coming up on the 30th and the knowledge that its really true that my life will never go back to the way it was... I think that I can live with 30.

Its better odds than I have of hitting the lottery... and I keep wishing for that to happen. :) So we'll see.

...as for this arthritis thing. (rolling eyes) Lawd... if it ain't one thing, its another. (remember that song by Richard Dimples Fields?) But like my momma told me, we can live with arthritis. Life might get a little uncomfortable but you can live through that. If it ain't one thing, its another.

i had a moment of feeling "sexy" last night


So, my friends and I went out for a little "girls night happy hour"... and it turned out to be a good time.

Started with dinner at Eatonville, a new Zora Neal Hurston-themed restaurant in town. It was so yummy. If you're in the U Street area... be sure to check it out. They even have rocking chairs you can sit in. Drinks in mason jars... and great food. (get the cobbler, its fantastic!)

After a good dinner, we strolled around the corner to U Street to catch up with the rest of the girls and just have some fun. We started at one bar and then moved to a second bar. And for a moment it was so quiet that I wondered if we would have to move to a third bar. But we didn't. We made the party work where we were.

We had a blast. Just easy going laughter... crazy stories. Fun. I laughed a lot. And interestingly enough (to me) I actually blushed a few times.

Seems that I ran into a guy that I knew from a few years ago. I had not seen him in well over a year, maybe 2 and he was just as outrageous as I remembered. In fairness, I had forgotten about him actually. We never dated, just hung out in the same spots a few times. I thought he was cute but not quite my type. A little young, really brash... but fun. I remember that I used to tease him about being younger than me back then.

Well... he's grown now. (laughs) And far less inhibited than he was then -- which I didn't think was possible. He says whatever is on his mind. Flat out. I'm not too accustomed to that. Took me by surprise because...

It was absolutely delicious. I'll admit it now. (the conversation I mean)

To flirt with someone, like it was 2007 and not 2009... like I wasn't sitting there with my friends with one part of my brain thinking about chemo next week. Just FLIRTING and having fun.

It was remarkable to me. I had forgotten what it felt like to just see someone you found attractive and talk to them... with no concern other than, I wonder does he find me attractive too?

He did. And he told me so many times.

(laughs)

I smiled the entire time I remained at Indulj... all the way home... and for a couple of hours after I got into the bed.

It felt so good.

...I'd tell you his name but, a girl has to keep some secrets to herself. But, I will share with you that I'm feeling like springtime over here. A little blooming here and there... of my sexiness and my confidence.

Feels good.

Let's hope it lasts for awhile.

i will be celebrating an anniversary soon


July 30th will be the 1 year anniversary of the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember the day clearly... the days leading up to it are a bit fuzzy in parts and I remember the day after my diagnosis. I took the day off from work because my head was a mess and I just kicked it with my boyfriend.

It was good to have a boyfriend then. Really good.

I found out the confirmation of my pathology reports over the phone. I was at work and it was just after 9am. The doctor was kind, especially considering we didn't have too much of a relationship. I saw him just the one time, when I went in for the biopsy and other than speaking on the phone that morning, have never talked to him again.

It must be difficult to have a job like that. One where you have to give difficult news on a regular basis. But I have to say, he wasn't cold or abrupt the way that people can be when they do something so very often. He was considerate and very kind. Which, in hindsight, was a huge blessing.

I was devasted on that day and honestly a part of me is still torn up. Time is making it better but its a slow process. I am healing... it too is a slow process. I am wondering how I will feel on the actual day. And how I will feel a year from now, and then a year from then... and so on.

I've been reading that many cancer patients have come up with different ways of celebrating their cancer-versaries. Some celebrate their diagnosis. Others celebrate the last day of chemo, or the day they are told they are cancer-free. Some people wait until they reach that very important 5-year milestone.

I don't know what I'm going to do that day. My guess is that a glass of wine will be involved. Maybe a steak at Ruth's Chris... or maybe I'll send myself some flowers and some cupcakes. I don't know. But now that I'm thinking about it, I think I need to start making some "happy plans" so that when the day comes even if I cry a little, there will be something to make me smile a little too.

Balance is important.

lymphedema concerns


Ever since I learned that having a radical mastectomy put me at risk for lymphedema, I've been a bit anxious about it. Lymphedema is a condition where an affected limb becomes swollen because the tissue collects fluid. A radical mastectomy means that not only do you lose the breast but you also lose some lymph nodes as well. Arm lymphedema
And that loss could result in swelling and problems down the line.

I've been watching my left arm closely. Although I was told that if I were to get lymphedema it would likely be years from now... that does not stop me from being concerned. Given that my left arm is still weaker than my right, I am becoming paranoid.

I know. I need to really give myself a damn break. (laughs) But I can't. Not yet.

Like I said, I've been watching this arm closely and I've begun to notice a very very slight swelling. At first, I thought I was tripping. But there are some changes to that arm. Slight for now, but I'm wondering whether or not it has anything to do with my back pain.

Always something...

Lymphedema is a chronic condition which means that unless I can figure out a way to head it off before it starts, I will be managing it for the rest of my life.

sometimes life is like a 3 stooges skit...


Yesterday was funny... but it wasn't supposed to be. I was scheduled for an MRI on my back so that my doctor could try to figure out why I was dealing with so much back pain. I've only had an MRI once before and that was last summer when we were trying to figure out whether my lump was cancerous. That was actually a pretty pleasant experience. Well, maybe not pleasant as my anxiety level during that time was HIGH but generally it wasn't a bad experience. The test last year was done at the Washington Radiology Center (that I recall) and everything was shiny and modern and comfortable. In fact, the reason why the test was so pleasant was because I never felt or heard a thing. I laid on a table with ear plugs, listening to the radio. And then it was over. Easy right?

If you've never had a MRI before... basically, its a large machine and the area where they put you into the machine is a big tube. You are lain on a narrow bed/gurney and slid into a large white tube. And that's it. So, naturally, I expected my experience yesterday to mirror that initial experience. It did not.

We started at 11:00am. I decided to go to the hospital alone this time because I know that my mom doesn't particularly like just sitting there waiting for me. I felt that since it was going to be a relatively mild and easy experience, I could handle it alone. I arrived at the radiology reception desk and was greeted by a gentleman who seemed just a bit harried. Surprisingly so considering it was so early in the day. I told him my name and why I was there and he replied....

"You're in the right place. But before you sign in, I have to tell you that one of the machines is down and we are now running 4 hours behind"

(blank stare)

Wow? Really? FOUR HOURS? How does that even work? (laughs)

I laughed (what else could I do) and was thankful that I had brought 2 books with me to read instead of just one. And I walked over to my seat. My initial reaction was to say forget it but I just couldn't do it. Less than 5 minutes later, I was called back to the reception desk and told that whomever had made my appointment had failed to get the proper authorization from my insurance company. Without that authorization, I couldn't take the test that day and would need to reschedule. I was sent packing, told to go back to my doctor's office and ask them to finish doing their job so that I could reschedule the test.

I was taken aback. The cancer center is usually pretty good about taking care of all the details. But what could I do other than take care of this mishap? Of course, I immediately worried that something was wrong with my insurance and started freaking out silently that I might have to pay for the MRI out of pocket. But I just started walking out of the hospital and down the block to the cancer center to try to take care of the situation.

Nothing moves quickly at the cancer center, but there was no reason for me to go all the way home without taking care of this small paperwork snafu. I explained my problem to one of the ladies at the reception area and she explained that it was not likely that I would get the needed authorization that day but she would try.

I settled on the couch prepared to wait up to 2 hours while things worked themselves out. Less than 15 minutes later I was called back to the desk.

Well... it seems that someone was a bit eager in their processing of my paperwork and failed to notice that I didn't require the authorization form that they had flagged my file for not having.

(blank face)

Basically, I had been deterred for an hour... for no reason.

Ha. All that was missing was somebody slapping me in the face and laughing. Just buffoonery...

I walked back to the radiology department at the hospital, laughing to myself. The gentleman at the desk was kind to me, while he fussed about working with people who didn't do their jobs well. All I could do was laugh. I figured the walk back and forth in the heat hadn't killed me, and the fact that I was hungry (can't eat for a few hours before the test) just gave me more incentive to stick around and get it over with.

Amazingly, I didn't have to wait four hours to be seen. I think ultimately my 11:15am appointment had me in the MRI machine by 1:30pm. That's about normal for most of my appointments -- a two hour wait.

This trip through the MRI was not as pleasant as the one last year. GW Hospital didn't have the fancy earplugs with various radio stations. And that machine rumbled and shook and made all sorts of noises the entire time. I am not claustrophobic but being in that plastic tube for what felt like an hour was definitely NOT the most fun I've ever had.

The technician complained that I kept moving which was messing up the images. I still find it hard to believe because I was jammed in there like a hot dog on a bun. (shrug) But, eventually it was over. I had to deal with having an IV stuck in my arm -- I really do not like needles and they could not use my port for the contrast. After I was done with the test, disoriented and slightly dizzy... the technician realized just as I made it to the dressing room to change back into my clothes, that she had forgotten to remove the IV from my arm.

It was just one bad move after another... all day long. But I didn't complain once. I did call my friend and shared my frustrations with her but I didn't complain to the staff. I notice more and more that I'm less likely to complain about something these days than I have been in the past. Not really sure why. Whenever I want to complain, I think about whether its something that is being done "to me" or if its a matter of circumstance. If its a matter of circumstance, meaning that it isn't that someone is trying to harm Nicole specifically... I just let it go.

Life is too short.

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