Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princes who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)
I've been sitting here for about the last two hours, reading other people's blogs and debating whether I should call Leslie. I talk myself into it then I talk myself out of it. I mean, if she had something to share, wouldn't she call? Seems pretty likely to me. On the other hand, this is driving me fucking crazy. I just need to know things are moving along. Okay. Okay. I'm calling. Now. Oh god, she answered the phone. I'm on hold now. I feel like a twelve year old making prank calls--maybe I should just ask if they have Prince Albert in a box and hang up.
Oh excellent. She's made me an appointment for July 21. She's requested a lot of shit that I thought she already had, like my pathology report and the ultrasound. She sent my file to financial to make sure somebody's going to be willing to pay for all of this. I'm guessing they'll call promptly if they discover that I need to ante up. I don't anticipate a problem, though. All of the other breast cancer bills have been paid promptly. I also received a hefty check from my friends at AFLAC. It's just a little bonus payment for those of us who have a cancer policy who then actually get cancer. Woo-hoo! Party time! I think the extra cash from that policy may ensure that I won't have to amass enough debt that it'll take till I'm 70 to pay for everything.
My big question is, if Leslie has already done all of that, why hasn't Leslie decided to keep me posted on the progress? How annoying. I could have been sitting around waiting for her to call until...what?...the 20th? Hey, lady! I have breast cancer! I need answers. I need reassurance. Is everyone else just fine and dandy with waiting around not knowing what's going on? Just more evidence of the decline of customer service standards.
One more bit of good news...no chemo. Yay!!!!! I thought that was likely, but it's so nice to hear it from someone who actually knows.
On the other hand, I've been down all day today. I thought I would feel better once I got some definitive information. No. I'm still feeling like I have about ten pounds of lead located somewhere in the center of my chest. Fuck.
I'd planned to do more yoga tonight. Last night's tape was "Pure Tranquility." It might lead to tranquility someday, but today I feel like I've been run over by a truck. Tonight I'm planning on doing a more aerobics-oriented series. Maybe I'll be able to climb the stairs tomorrow, maybe not.
I'm thinking of breaking with tradition and dressing up tomorrow. Everyone else here honors the casual Friday rule. As a matter of fact, it's a little like a requirement, not just here, but everywhere in America. I don't care. I never let a little thing like other people's expectations prevent me from doing anything I please. I just have this serious need to feel pretty. Beats the hell out of me. I guess it's the knowledge that I won't be so pretty soon. It will be quite some time before I'll be able to wear any cute dresses. I'm going to have some difficulty getting dressed after the operation. I don't want to think about that right now.
America held hostage day 1372
Bushism of the day:
"I'm honored to shake the hand of a brave Iraqi citizen who had his hand cut off by Saddam Hussein." —Bush, meeting with Iraqi citizens who received medical care in the U.S., May 25, 2004
Website of the day: G8 Information Center
http://www.g7.utoronto.ca/
