Counting Down

Friday is surgery day for Deb.  I can't say I'm excited to have her undergo surgery, but I am looking forward to getting the cancer removed as soon as possible.  She will be reporting to surgery at 9 AM (0900 in my preferred way of referring to time) and probably be put into a room where she can get changed, get the IV line put in, have a last-minute consultation with the surgeon and the anesthesiologist (or CRNA), and get comfortable in the hospital bed - but I hope that I will be able to stay with her through this time.  I'm going by our previous experience with surgeries on all that.  They could surprise me with some other process, but I do want to be with her back there for as long as possible.

We expect that they will probably take her back into a pre-op area sometime between 1000 and 1030, where they will start to give her the nice little injection through the IV that makes you not really care what else is going on.  This, of course, is later followed by another injection and the encouragement to count out loud backwards from 10.  I'm not aware of ever making it past "5" myself.  A question for all of you readers who've spent time in surgical suites - does anyone ever actually make it to "zero"?  Just wondering.

So, one other doctor visit to report.  Last Friday we saw a radiology oncologist.  She and Deb discussed her case at length, but I think that the general consensus is that Deb may not need radiation therapy following surgery et al, but that it is still a possibility depending on the post-surgical pathology results.

So now we're just spending time doing what we can to get ready for the next several months.  Deb did go ahead and get her hair cut shorter in anticipation of chemotherapy (she says it's her 'transitional haircut'), but she threatened me with great bodily harm if I actually post the picture of her that I snuck in while we were at the coffee shop afterward.  I think I might do well to take that threat seriously.  She makes the same threat for any picture that I sneak of her.