I think I may have the answer to the first two questions in the form of my pathology report, delivered to me hot off the press this morning. I had a seemingly routine onc appt booked with Dr. B, my fave doc at the cancer clinic (who isn't my regular doc), and while he and I were blathering on about estrogen and surgery and cats with tiny hats, I saw a collection of papers in my file that said "final report". Gulp. No electronic record of my pathology yet, but Dr. B had just then received a hard copy and hadn't yet had time to read it.
While he perused and I sweated my ballz off, Pete nervously rubbed my shoulder. The dirt:
- No cancer in right breast
- 10 lymph nodes removed, no cancer in any of them
- 1 or 2 "foci" (tumours) found in my left breast
- 4 mm margin around the tumour(s)
Dr. B. said he was very happy with these results, so I am, too. Deliriously happy, in fact. So fucking happy that I stopped by Vanilla bakery on the way home (after calling my parents, of course - relatives before baked goods... for the most part) and purchased a giant pumpkin muffin. Nice to see after these months of juicing and vegetarian/vegan conversion that I can still rock the simple buttery carbs.
So let me be clear about this. It was the love of such a delicious circle of friends and semi-anonymous supporters, from former and current co-workers, bosses, peers, teams of furious worker bees, to school moms, teen idols, old acquaintances and newfound friends, brothers and sisters-in-law, cousins, aunts, uncles, to one helluva husband and parents, children and scruffy ass dog that carved the path to this report. Over the moon grateful. Blissed out. Reveling in every second.
Give me the weekend and I'll be full of shit with plans. Hurrah!!!!!