Chop, Chop

Let’s rewind here a little. Early March I met with my surgeon. We wanted more imaging so I held back on the extra questions I had because, you know, usually you see them again. 

Then COVID. So all of my consults moving forward have been phone consults. Yes I can still ask questions but it seems much more ‘flustered’ than when we have in-person appointments. I am organized and have my binder ready with my book of questions but being on the phone is very different. Not being able to see someone’s face makes a HUGE difference… honestly I find even masks where the lower half of your face is covered is hard – are you smiling, are you frowning… yeesh! 

I digress. My surgeon called me beginning of May to go through the surgical plan. No immediate reconstruction because she is going to be a little more aggressive and she agrees with me about cutting into the pec muscle to get the clear margins (more on this later). We’re on track for the week of the 22 – sweet!

I think what we all find is this; waiting is HARD. Not having a solid game plan is HARD. This is something I have been trying to learn during all of this. I can’t always be in control. I can’t always have everything planned weeks, heck months in advance. So I’m riding the wait train. 

This isn’t as hard to start. I had spoken with the nurse navigator a couple of days after my surgeon and she said she was going to touch base first week in June. My brain? PERFECT! I’ll get my surgical date first week in June. That I can take to the bank and steady the train with. Nope. The closer we get to ‘the week of the 22’ the more it feels like the train is starting to get out of control, moving both too fast and too slow, swaying and nearly tipping off the rails.  

I called the end of the first week of June to check when my date is. No date yet. Huh. Surely next week. The train starts picking up speed. The entire week after nothing. So I called on Thursday again. Nope. No surgical date yet. But the nurse navigator called me back – she asked me to call her when I get my pre-assessment and surgical appointments. My train speeds ahead.

All weekend my brain is moving too fast and then a jarring too slow. I’m grumpy. I’m easily irritated. Being aware is half the battle in trying to pull myself to be present during our family time on the weekend.

Monday morning my brain is in turbo speed; a massive amount of overdrive is taking control. It’s spiralling into other areas: self loathing, my body betrayals, my stupid neuropathic feet and hands. I can see the train crashing. 

So I call again. Surgical date! Oh and by the way bring your pre-op paperwork from your family doc office… good thing I inquired about the pre-op two weeks ago and had already booked a doc appointment for it!

All of a sudden the train is controllable. Slowing down. Breathing helps again. There’s far less spinning on the edge of the rails tipping over sideways. 

Game plan time. If you know me, I’m pretty decent at this part. Now I control the schedule. 

Time to cut these traitors off.