Today Heather-of-Six and I talked to the Medical Oncologist, the Radiology Oncologist, and a Nurse Practitioner. (On Monday it was the Surgical Oncologist.) We liked all of them. Not so much everything they had to say, though.
1. Yesterday's MRI indicates that my lymph nodes seem to be clear. (We won't know that for sure until the actual surgery, though.)
2. There are all kinds of potential cosmetic alterations that I can have if I want, that even my less-than-satisfactory insurance will now pay for. Hah.
1. Yesterday's MRI indicates a surprise! Some sort of tiny, as yet undefined, nodule on my lung. Everyone is optimistic that this is scar tissue from some past infection, but since they found it, they have to check it out. Add a PET scan to my roster of tests, please . . . (Also note that everyone was previously optimistic that the nodule we all already knew about was benign.)
2. Apparently youth is not actually an asset in the whole cancer realm, for various reasons, one of which is that I might live long enough to get it again.
3. It is pretty well decided that I will have to have chemo. I find it somewhat troubling that the idea of losing my hair is more upsetting to me than the idea of, say, dying. Prepare for songs like "I'll Be Bald for Christmas" and other cheery anthems as the season approaches.
My brain doesn't really know what to do with all this data, and this evening, instead of exploding, I found myself both laughing and crying hysterically At The Same Time. It was like one of those days where the sun's out and it starts pouring. We had a day like that last Wednesday . . . when the only trouble I thought I was having was with my car.