We go into our second weekend not knowing if I have cancer.
The pathology is lumbering on, slowly but surely. I called on Wednesday. No news, but the pathologist reviewing my biopsy wanted to see my scans. Dad took them out to the hospital clinic for me. I called today. Again no news, but the lab is still processing the specimens. I will know early next week.
The making of appointments seems to have ground to a halt. The speech pathologist has my referral and should call to make an appointment for next week. Dr P will not be in Sydney next week (except, I presume, Saturday if I need to be whisked in for surgery) and he will likely call me with the results when he has them.
My plastic surgeon Dr Amiable’s assistant called today wanting to make an appointment for mid July for a further pre-surgery consultation. Does he perhaps not know what I know? Ah no. No he did not. Conveniently, Dr A and Dr P will be in surgery together on Tuesday and can talk about it then. Not exactly the room I had in mind when I said I wanted to get all my surgeons in the one room to thrash this out, but I’ll take what I can get.
Today has been nothing short of uplifting. Old friends. New friends. Tears. Laughter. Handwritten notes. Sunshine. And this afternoon, Alannah gleefully toddled a dozen or more dainty tiptoe steps all in a row to throw herself into my arms. Oh I DO love you.