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I've Never Had So Many Doctors

Here's what I had to do:
1) See the surgeon, twice.
2) See the plastic surgeon, twice.
3) Have an MRI
4) See the oncologist, once.

I got in to see the surgeon, Dr. John Rimmer, M.D., the following Monday morning.  Once again, a doctor worked me into their free time.  Word on the street is that it takes about three weeks to get in with him.  The world has never known a kinder, more thorough physician.

I met my plastic/reconstructive surgeon, Dr. David Lickstein, M.D.  that week as well.  I have seen his work professionally, and I already knew I was in the right hands.  Dude's an artist, for real.

I met my oncologist, Dr. Marilyn Raymond, M.D.  and we submitted a blood sample for BRCA testing.  Get this:  Cigna requires genetic counselling before they will approve the test (which is a $4k test, by the way).   Cigna provides the phone number to call to schedule the phone counselling appointment.  Cigna then DENIES the claim for the genetic counsellor, citing that it is a non-covered service.  Um, what the hell?

Okay, so I think that my surgeon thought I was a little nuts when I walked in and informed him that I wanted a bilateral mastectomy.  He made me repeat myself a few times, and he really wanted to hear my reasoning for a bilateral procedure.  I'm sure he just wanted to be explicitly sure that I wanted him to remove a seemingly healthy part of my body.  I understand.  By the end of the consultation, he had a much better sense of my concern and my willingness to tackle this obstacle head on.  I'm not messing around.  I have a seven year old who just discovered taikwando and wants to go four days a week.  I don't have time for this.

The waiting was the hardest part.  The diagnostic breast MRI has to be performed 7-10 days after the onset of the menstrual cycle.  That can't be helped.  The MRI has to be read, and the report must be given to the surgeon before the surgery can be scheduled.  The timing and orchestration of these events fell into place, and my surgery was scheduled for February 14.  Valentine's Day.  Awesome.

I'm not afraid of surgery.  I'm not afraid of chemotherapy, if I need it.  I would prefer not to receive radiation if possible, but I'll do what I am told.  What I am afraid of is not being here for NCS.

MRI day comes, and I was a little nervous.  My last visit to Palm Beach Radiology left me bruised, a full array of yellows, purples, and browns.  Not my best look.  MRI machines don't make the most pleasant noises, so I was hoping for some nice music, at least.

I found the MRI experience to be very warm and relaxing, and I think I almost fell asleep.  When my eyes are closed, I feel like I can sometimes see colors in the dark.. sometimes red, purple, whitish.  They are shapes or lines, and I "see" them move if I concentrate on them.  I don't know if this is something that happens to everyone, or if I'm nuts, but I was focused on these images while I was inside the magnet.  When the dye was pushed in, I felt a warm energy course up my arm, go into my head, and everything went WHITE behind my closed eyelids.  I felt the warmth go down my other arm, into my fingertips, and then spread systemically throughout my body.  Maybe I was super aware, maybe I'm crazy, but it was all fine.   The MRI did not reveal any indications of invasive breast disease, thank God.

I'm ready for surgery.  Let's dance.

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