SLAM DUNK

December 6, 2017, the day is finally here.  My first visit with my oncologist.  My oncologist... two words I hoped I would never have to say in any of my vocabulary.  But here we are.  I have an oncologist.

I walk in to the check in desk, honestly about to vomit all over the place.  My stomach is churning.  Pay my $20 copay and they hand me an envelope and say go to waiting room B.  I have no idea where waiting room B is...  I've never been here.  I don't want to be here.  I need help.  Finally she directed me down the hall, past waiting room A, past the chemo room, to waiting room B.

In this area there are people hanging out who are obviously in all different stages of their journey with this terrible disease.  Some seem like me who look terrified and new to all of this.  Some who obviously know their way around the joint and seem to be comfortable with being there.  Some waiting for chemo, some waiting for radiation, some just waiting for the doctors.

Finally in to see my guy.  His office is full of medals from being a marathon runner and there's a TV screen with a slide show of all of his adventures and vacations.  I immediately form two opinions.... first this guy is going to hate me.. I do not run .... ANYWHERE!  Bad out of shape girl.  She deserves cancer for not exercising.  Then the travel lover in me thinks well at least we can talk about traveling and how we love the ocean; then I start thinking will I ever see the ocean again.  Will I ever get to travel again.  The paranoia is setting in.

In walks my guy.  Seems nice enough.  We talk.  He starts throwing out all of these terms and diagnosis that I have no f'n clue what he is talking about or what any of it means at all.  This is what I finally get out of our conversation:  it is very small (4mm); it was caught extremely early; so early in fact that if I had chosen the 2D versus the 3D mammogram it would not have caught it; he's sending me to a surgeon for a lumpectomy, he's sending me to the radiation doctor to discuss how radiation will work after the lumpectomy, and we're doing some labs and having me tested for some type of genetic test, since I'm under 50 and having breast cancer is unusual so he wants to see if I have a type of gene mutation for cancer.  He says he thinks it will be negative since I have very little family history, but he wants to rule it out also.   Okay, no biggie, whatever you need to do.

Doc then says and I quote.... "This looks like a slam dunk, you are going to be fine".  And out I go to get my blood drawn for the tests and make the next appointments and on my way.

Ahhh relief!  Slam Dunk!  Hell ya!  I got this.  I can do this!   Famous last words....