No, not my boobs... that's a lost cause.
But I, as a cancer fighter, have perked up a bit since finding a couple of good leads on getting treatment.
I called Dr. Goodman in Boston about treatment and what he could possibly do for me. I left a LONG, DETAILED message on Wednesday night. Thursday afternoon Dr. Goodman's secretary called me. Evidently my phone staticed (is that a word?) up while I was giving my number so she called 6 wrong numbers before reaching me. She had put my information in front of the doc who seems VERY interested in treating me. So interested, in fact, that he called me HIMSELF on Friday morning. So I've got about a million fax pages heading to him, hopefully as I'm typing this.
I don't know about any of you- but surgeons don't typically call me themselves. Hell, doctors' offices of any sort always have their secretaries do it for them. So to me- that is a good sign. We were talking about treatment, I'd mentioned that I had Lynch Syndrome just in case it had any bearing on treatment and he said "Your children will need to be tested for that when they are 20 or 21."
I said "I know, and I'd REALLY like to be around for that."
He said "I'll do everything I can."
I realized I hadn't heard those exact words from a Doctor. I wanted to break into tears after I processed it.
Now, with respect to Dr. Cawley- She is a fantastic Doctor and does talk with promise and hope and doesn't end a promising phrase with "...but..." She gives me hope too. I feel she is doing all she can for me from her position.
The 2 surgeries I've had have been "productive" I guess, but it seems I'd hear "there is still a lot of tumor there..." My thought was- WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TAKE IT OUT?
The answer seemed to be that there wasn't 'time' or something. hmph.
Fine. I will take my cancerous abdominal cavity elsewhere.
I'm still making calls. I'm getting other doctor suggestions.... but I've got a good feeling about Dr. Goodman. I won't call it a 'gut' feeling, because I think by now we all know my guts are what got me into this mess in the first place. har har.