Biopsy

No eating or drinking after midnight, a little bloodwork, then off to the operating room! First, they have to mark the place where the notorious lump is located. These days, due to so many liability issues, they have to write on you with a marker to show which side the surgeon is supposed to work on. (I suppose so he doesn't operate on the wrong part of your body!) Dr. Billy peeked his head in my waiting room to say "Good morning" and "It will all be fine." The anesthesiologist comes in to talk with me and tell me what he is planning to do. Anesthesiologists, in contrast to surgeons, seem to be more "social" and more apt to joke around to put your mind at ease. That's fine with me! It does help. They put a little stretchy shower cap on my head and wheel me away. The operating room is noisy with preparations for the procedure, running water for washing of hands, clanking of metal instruments, the doctor and nurses talking with one another, the rustle of the sheets and blankets placed on my legs. I look up to the big surgical lights over my head and hear the anesthesiologist tell me that I'll start to feel sleepy. Before he even stops talking to me, my eyes close and I'm asleep.

When I wake up, it seems I time-traveled because it was only an instant ago they were preparing me for the task. It is now several hours later and I've got a big, padded bandage across my left breast. I force my eyes open and groggily look around to get my bearings. They offer me a Sprite. That tastes so good. Once fully awake, they wheel me back to the waiting room and John is there to visit with me and help me get dressed to go home. As we drove home I was thinking "In a few days we will have the test results and this whole ordeal will be behind me, just a memory."