Today was rough. I mean, I know I have to have surgery. It’s practically all I’ve written about here — it is the one thing I know for sure. But in the last 12 hours, that surgery stopped being this vague thing that was going to happen and instead became a date on the calendar with an actual plan attached to it.
On January 27th I’m scheduled for a double mastectomy and immediate (simultaneous) DIEP reconstruction.
This morning I had an appointment with Dr. F, the plastic surgeon referred to me by Dr. P, the breast surgeon. Dr. F and Dr. P kind of have a mutual love fest going on — for each other, their staff, the hospital and even their patients. They make a good team. And because they work together ALL THE TIME and because everyone I mention their names to sings their praises, I feel safe and cared for in their hands. But I liked it a lot better when my surgery was just a thing that was going to happen and not THIS thing that IS happening.
I don’t know how to get comfortable with it, how to find my way back to feeling unafraid. Because suddenly, I am more than a little afraid.
There are a few more tests I need to schedule, including genetic testing for the BRCA gene and a CT scan. Then pre-op testing, clearance from my primary care doctor, and surgery. The surgery itself will last several hours, and I am grateful that Dr. F and Dr. P have a routine. They’ve not only done this about 2,000 times, they’ve done it together about 2,000 times. They are the A-team.
I won’t know if I’m going to need chemo or radiation until the pathology reports come in after surgery. Right now none of that feels like a worry to me. It may be at some point, but right now all I see is the surgery. And it scares me only a little bit less than the cancer scares me.
I don’t know. Maybe that’s how it should be. You do the things that scare you to crush the thing that scares you the most.