There is something surreal about driving up to the Cancer Center.  I don’t feel sick.  Could this all be a big mistake?  Why don’t they have an address on the building?  It looks rather nice.  I admire the lobby and artwork as we enter.  They have free valet parking for patients.  Cool!

Gene couldn’t go with me due to a scheduled procedure on a patient.  I don’t bat an eye.  We have been married for nearly 30 years, and I know the life of a doctor.  He would be there if he could, and it is killing him that he can’t go with me, but I have a friend with me who is a nurse and we will be fine.  I glance at my friend, grin and say, “This is a first for me.  Is it also for you?”  I take her to the best places!

Our escort takes us up to the third floor where the receptionist gives us a tour of the lobby.  As we wait, my friend says, “You are the youngest person here, and the only one with a big smile on her face.”  Everyone keeps looking at me like I don’t get it.  But I think you choose how you go through life and I choose to laugh at the hard stuff.  It makes me feel better.

I have a wonderful Oncologist (if there is such a thing).  She proceeds to draw diagrams, flow charts, and images of my breast, the Chemo plan and timeline.  She even defines all the big words for me.  I’m going to scan and post her pages as an example for other doctors.  While I may sleep with a doctor, this isn’t like Holiday Inn commercial where you develop extraordinary skills because of where you sleep.  I build websites.  I don’t do medicine!

The Oncologist explains that I’m going to need surgery, and a year’s worth of chemo and radiation.  She says that due to my high risk biopsy results, I get the “Cadillac” of chemo.  Go big or go home is my motto!  I look her in the eye and say, “You are messing up my travel schedule.” 

The doctor leaves the room for a few minutes and my friend and I go into the huddle.  You know the huddle.  This is where you lean together and talk about all the stuff you don’t want to say while the doctor is in the room.  My friend says, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”  I’m sure we are on the same page, so I nod.  She says, “This is going to take a lot of energy.”  Nope.  That isn’t what I’m thinking.  I’m thinking, “I don’t have time for this.”  We laugh.  Seriously?  Like what I was planning to spend my time on was more important?