(11 minutes till) ZERO DAYS LEFT

I am not a nut for writing this last entry, right? But I am wide awake and just ate my last delicious bite of ginger ice cream. Unfortunately it was not the ginger ice cream that should win a Nobel peace prize from Sweet Berry Farm, in Middletown, RI, Susannahs, (pardon the spelling) as they are not open yet. Maybe they are waiting until I am fully recovered and taking my first drive back from third beach on one of those gorgeous unseasonably warm late April days celebrating my post surgery speedy recovery….

Just when I think that there are no pre-op experiences left to write about, there was one that happened today that I just have to finish my series of writings with because seriously, I can’t make this up.

I found out yesterday that I had one last pre surgery appointment called a nuclear medicine injection or something like that. The point of it is so that when my doctor goes to find the lymph node for removal, it will be lit up like a Christmas tree (or in my case, like a Hanukkah menorah). This injection expresses itself through your lymph so this has to be done the day before the surgery. As I waited again for the tech to call me (tv blaring very bad tv show, but we know this now so no point in dredging up the sordid past) among other repeats of previous entries, the very handsome tech or doctor, wasn’t sure yet, comes to get me. He actually introduced himself, (yeah!) and off we went down a long corridor into a room in the way back corner of the floor. Door shuts, total quiet, and it is just the tech and me. (I learned he was the tech after I asked him if he was the doctor.) I should have known when he introduced himself by his first name, because of my vast doctor experience I have found that only (super cool) female doctors do this.

He pulls out the familiar questionnaire, reviews the procedure then asks me to get into the (infamous by now) Johnny, refer to THE CHANGING ROOM if you need a reminder of that experience again to save time because after all it is almost ZERO DAYS LEFT. I’m thinking this is weird. Just me and the handsome tech and me in a johnny. Ok then. He leaves and tells me that the radiologist will be back in after I am changed.

Five minutes go by and in walks another totally handsome man. So now it is me in a johnny and we all now by now how great those fit, my brain spinning because in less then 24 hours these breasts of mine are no longer and I have two handsome young men about to have me lie down on some contraption one on either side of me. I tried to close my eyes, but this situation I found myself in required a look to prove it was really happening. What was happening, you may be asking? The fact that two handsome men were prodding and poking and asking for confirmation of what breast they would be prodding and poking or that I was half naked in a room at the end of a long corridor that seemed kind of sound proofed lying in a surrender pose which was really a pure raw vulnerable pose? You pick because both were wacked in my opinion. It probably never even crossed their minds or the minds of the idiot scheduler who thought scheduling a woman who would be removing her clothing with two men, one who was a resident for a radioactive injection less than 24 hours before a mastectomy was actually a good solid idea. I mean what if I had been a much younger woman or maybe a woman who had had a sexual trauma in her earlier years, the whole thing was completely insane, but no one at the top seems to give a shit and if they did, they would have dragged my ass in long ago for very worthwhile game changing feedback.

As they both leaned over me on each side of me, I opened my eyes and laughed aloud. Then of course I said, “Do you both realize that besides my partner waiting for me out in the waiting area, (got this in to make sure they knew that I had a bad ass boyfriend waiting), you both are the last men who will ever see these real breasts on me again? This is my lucky day.” I mean seriously what the fuck else could I say to the absurdity of this situation that only a person traipsing in and out of the mother fucking medical world I have found myself in could say. Despite all of this bizarreness, the men were extremely professional and kind and turns out that the resident happened to be from one of my favorite food countries (which shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) and we bonded promptly when I started naming the most obscure dishes. He could not believe his ears and for the love of food, we connected. Ahh world peace. Food does this. Plus he gave me a restaurant to try in Cambridge and I got to spread world peace by spewing out my favorite restaurants in Bristol.

Anyway, the reason I was there is that I was getting injected with radioactive material and I got a identification card that I would need to present at a security checkpoint if I was planning on going somewhere between the appointment (3:00pm and the mastectomy tomorrow 6:00am) because the security alarm would go off. That is mother fucking power if you ask me.

This got me thinking. Who is the only person who could do this kind of traveling? Well, WONDER WOMAN of course in her invisible plane! So I am there surrounded by two men, getting injected with radioactive material in my left breast and I am now thinking, yes I actually am WONDER WOMAN.

Then after I am all done getting my super powers placed in my veins, I leave and we go home. As soon as we walk into my house, the rain starts coming down in buckets, (good thing I changed my mind about taking the invisible plane out for a quick trip before the surgery) and BAM BOOM CRASH, thunder AND lightening. I swear it is because I am recharged full of Wonder Woman powers. Officially.

And I have the ID card to prove it.