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Feb. 2nd.

Today is a hard day.

I woke up so angry.  So angry it surprised me.  Yesterday I was supposed to hear about a biopsy that a doctor took on Thursday the 28th at 7 AM The whole day I was really fine.  I did my stuff.  I exercised.  I even relaxed, kind of.  But I got no phone call.   When I called near the close of the day they said my biopsy was still processing.   Okay, fine, I thought.  Whatever.  Why do I want to rush the bad news I’m going to get?  

Cuz here’s the thing, I’ve been around surgeons and oncologists for the past 17 years when my husband was first diagnosed and I know they do not leave you with the impression you have cancer unless you have cancer.  For reals.  They don’t.  And this new surgeon I have, DEFINITELY believes I have cancer.  

So, yeah, why rush the bad news.  Then, later in the evening, I remembered when I was first diagnosed.  The doctor did a biopsy and told me to schedule with a surgeon to have it removed.  When she called to tell me that it was malignant and to make an appointment I said, “I did make one, I have it in two weeks.”  She replied with, “No, you need to be seen tomorrow.  This cancer is aggressive.”. 

This morning I called and said, “hey, this is the 6th day.  It seems uncool.”  They said, “It’s still processing.”   What the fuck.  I don’t get that.  Again, 17 years.  So many bouts of cancer between us and we’ve never waited this long for a biopsy.

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