I have an appointment with Dr. Shindo tomorrow at 9:45 a.m. My Mom is flying in tonight so she can go to the appointment with me. During this appointment I will get more information on what stage the cancer is in and what we can do for treatment. I’m nervous, but I have a good feeling about this doctor. I will probably get a second opinion because that is recommended, but this Doctor is a thyroid cancer specialist and has been in the field for a number of years. At least now I can get things going. Keep sending good thoughts. It sounds like the surgery is going to be pretty crappy and I’ll only get to eat mushy foods for a week or more afterwards. Yay…
I liked this piece of advice:
What advice would you give the family members and friends of someone diagnosed with cancer?
Be honest. Some people told me that they could handle me being sick, but as soon as they saw me in the hospital with drainage tubes out of my neck, they freaked. I would rather know from the beginning that someone can not handle it rather than relying on them and then being disappointed. Don’t be afraid to laugh at the situation. Sometimes things happen that is funny and it’s okay to laugh. When I went in for my surgery, my sister and I laughed all the way through pre-op.
I wrote this yesterday:
It’s okay to look at yourself in the mirror and see that something is different. That the change was made without you knowing it—that, at least, might be better. The only thing that alerts you to the difference is a few words after a biopsy. I keep looking in the mirror and seeing me differently. A film of disbelief or shock or optimism, depending on the time of day or the weather, shrouds my face. My heart still beats. Irregular. Breathing. Deep. Pounding with fierce life.