So they've pretty much all been used. The big scary words I didn't want to hear:
Each time a new word gets tossed out there it comes with a fresh wave of grief and tears. But then it finds a place to settle in my brain, stretches a bit, makes itself at home, and I move on.
The doctor used the word BIG when describing my tumor. Followed by REALLY BIG. Tossed out "has me worried." When I go onto those cancer message boards, where people talk in abbreviations like "I had a dx on my ILC that was 2mm," I see pitiful little sizes like 2 centimeters and even 10 millimeters. I want to tell them to get back to me when they have a respectable tumor, like 4.8 centimeters. That's 1.8 inches, in case you're wishing you knew metric better. Apparently it's about half the tissue mass of the A cup "body part" that's holding it. At least that's how much they'd have to take out if they tried a lumpectomy. (And in case anyone just felt offended, I do believe any lump commands respect.)
Fortunately, the scariest word of all...METASTASIZED...was preceded by the phrase "No reason to think that it has..." I'm praying (and I mean seriously praying) that it will stay that way. That's one word that is so not welcome in my brain.
The surgery isn't until Oct. 7. They were saying this Monday, but by the time they got all the doctors schedules coordinated, that was the best they could do. The nurse assured me that the tumor has been around a long time and two weeks wouldn't hurt, especially when it bought them time to do it right. Then she added that it's fine with everyone but the patient.
She sure got that right. But despite the anxiety, it'll give me time to get settled into the pretty new house we found. More on that later.