SAT 6/20 - Poor Mom!

From: Amy Ponce

After waiting for several hours in O'Hare, her flight got cancelled all together. I can only assume that SOMEONE will call us tomorrow with her new flight info for whenever it gets re-scheduled.

Speaking of iPhones, I am told there is an application on them that will "read" a song that it "hears" and tell you the title and artist of it. Now all I have to do is find someone who owns one with this application, drag him/her with it to the movie theater on Post, and hope that this theater plays the same refreshment trailer music as the theater in Korea did, hence leading me closer to my own copy of "Marathon." Note: It didn't even occur to me that the theater on this post might be using the same refreshment trailer until a friend who is military suggested it.

Alternatively, my friend, Suzanne, is on the hunt for it. She was in the Army and remembers it. I'll keep you posted on this important pursuit.

We went to my consult with the oncologist today. I'm very happy and comfortable with him. He's a TOTAL egg-head. Fairly young, which is good. Has an MD and PhD and his clinic participates in trials, all of which indicates that he's on top of the game, so to speak. We still need a lot more data before we'll know anything for certain about treatment. If this cancer is estrogen-receptive, then I'll be able to take a hormone treatment in addition to the chemo and radiation, which would reduce chances of recurrence to 15%. (Not that stats mean a lot to me.)

We're waiting on the PET scan that happens on Wednesday to determine if and where the cancer has spread. But this test will only pick up something bigger than 1/2 a centimeter, so we'll still procede with the chemo as though there are more cancer cells in my body somewhere. If the scan comes up "clean," then surgery will go ahead as planned. If they find something troublesome, then everything changes. Again, it's hard to wait to learn these things. On the other hand, I am so hopeful, and I am now thinking that if the scan is clean, then the road from here to recovery is straight-forward. Kind of a like a project I'll be working on this year. "What did I do back in '09? Let me see. . . Oh yeah, I was busy doing cancer that year."

The first couple of days after the surgical consult, when we learned just how extreme this is, and that the mastectomy was necessary, all the emotion of 2 weeks caught up to me. It was a sad 36 hours or so and I lost a lot a sleep. But, truly, I feel over that big hump. I kind of want a double mastectomy right now just so I won't have the axe of re-occurence hanging over me for the rest of my life, but the surgeon doesn't recommend that. Anyway. I'm feeling pretty OK about what has to be done.

My next appt with him is 10 July, about 2 weeks after surgery, and then we'll come up with a schedule, so I'll know more about when we'll need help.

One thing from today's consult was especially comforting to me: The doctor examined me himself and was notably surprised at what the tumor feels like. Namely, that it doesn't feel like much. That it doesn't feel like most tumors do. That it kind of feels like a swollen lymph node! (Which is what I thought it was for a couple months, but it didn't go away, which is why I went in.) I say "comforting," because it's pretty normal to have that little doubt of "what if I'd gone in right away?"--Given its size now, even if I had gone in back in February, it still would have been a pretty big-ass tumor. I'm just saying: I'm not crazy! Even the oncologist said he wouldn't have thought it was cancer! This feels like a load off.

About calling. Sure, you're all welcome to call. In the evenings is ideal because the kids will be asleep and a phone conversation wouldn't detract from my attention to them. On the other hand, during the day is fine, too, and if I'm in the middle of something, I just won't answer. :)

Re: Mom's 'bagallini'--does anyone else think this sound like an item on an Italian Bistro's Express Lunch menu?