The day after

We arrived at the Women's Center, next door to the hospital at about 11am. I was there for the radiologist to insert wires into the appropriate places in my breast and underarm. A quick mammogram before that, to make sure where the two markers, left from the original biopsy are.
After the first 6 or 7 mammograms, I realised something was up. By then, I had 3 radiology technicians pushing, pulling, prodding - all with extreme kindness, but no success. Maybe an hour later, they finally gave up and off we went to try an ultrasound. Squishy gel all over me (so much for being sterile), she could have ironed 5 full loads of laundry, which is more-or-less the same movement around my armpit, in search of the markers. No success.
Off to have an MRI, with by now, about 7 in the entourage. I was promised it would be a quickie. Ha ha. For the uninitiated, an MRI is lieing with one breast in a hole in a very narrow, hard table, the other on an even less comfortable contraption, your face and neck set up for minimal support and maximum breathing obstruction and all this while noise that makes a pneumatic drill sound like a requim to peace, is blasting your whole body. Very quick: at least an hour without moving. But... success must have been part of the deal, because in the midst, Dr Schilling came to pinch and clinch and the wires were inserted. Not out of there before another MRI and then back to the mammogram, where another 30 or so efforts were made to locate whatever was there. I was told not to look.
Finally, I was led back to the waiting Reuven and Channa and with  'just one more mammogram' to interrupt (actually another dozen or so), the quick stage one was over. Besides generally cooperating, I did mutter that if I don't die of breast cancer, I'll definately die from the radiation received yesterday.

By then, I was way late for surgery, which had been scheduled for 2pm. A lady with a wheelchair and chart was adament that 55 years practicising walking wasn't good enough. I had to go to the van in a wheelchair. The van was broken and there was RR talking to a security lady. Oh G-d.. what has he got up to now?? But it turned out that the security lady was due to take us all to the hospital in lieu of the van.  RR and Channa hopped in, but the lady with the wheelchair was left behind, so there was a mini drama when we arrived at the hospital without her and the all-important wheelchair and chart.

I finally arrived in a little cublicle to get ready for surgery - seemingly a minor detail after the morning's adventures. The nurse, Fran, is the Mom of one of Lee's best friends from grade 1 or so. What joy to reunite with her - we rushed right out of the surgery area to the waiting area to update RR. As anyone can see, there were much more important issues than having a large slice of my breast removed and a bunch of lymph nodes chopped out too. I was dead to the world for all of that - thank you kind doctors and woke up trussed up like Madonna in all her glory.

Everything is good. with the aid of pain killers, I feel great and hope that we can continue with such success. Dr D did a marvellous job from what I hear. Thanks to absolutely everyone at the hospital for their kindness and great work.