Sometime in the past four days, I've developed a massive crush on my breast surgeon. I'd be willing to bet that happens pretty regularly. That's what makes it so fucking annoying. He's not a particularly attractive man and we've only spoken together for about 30 minutes in all four of the times we've occupied the same room.
My therapist would say that it's just a viable distraction. I think about how much I love my surgeon in order to not think about breast cancer.
This whole situation is a shining example of what positive benefits can be latched onto from a truly bad childhood. I have got survival skills to die for (sorry, I just couldn't help myself). This latest distraction is just one among many tactics I learned years and years ago.
People in my office are in awe of my good cheer. They don't know I'm spending my time fantasizing about my oncology surgeon. One of my co-workers just poked her head into my office to remind me to leave. I'm on an abbreviated work schedule while I recuperate from surgery. I guess that means I need to leave. Oh yay...more time to think about the doctor!
