The next few days were a blur of ice bags, sleeping, waking, eating, and more ice bags. The days and nights were running together and time had very little meaning. I was surprised at how little actual pain there was. Oh, my breast was achy, and the incision where the lymph glands were removed was quite sore. Relative to some other experiences like a root canal, childbirth, a bad relationship, etc., this was pretty low on my pain list.

My follow-up visit to Dr. Lim was not a pleasant one. He removed stitches and the drain tubing. I had forgotten to take a pain pill before going, and it was quite uncomfortable. His prognosis of my condition was in the category of mixed blessing. Even in the face of all the evidence to the contrary, I think I was still hoping that the growth would turn out to be benign. Hearing the word “cancer," no matter how prepared I was, was still a shock. He explained that the tumor was very small, in fact too small for the hospital laboratory to analyze. It had to be sent out for evaluation as to whether it was “hormone negative or positive." However, the lymph glands were clear, as was the surrounding tissue, so the situation looked very good. Through all this, though, I kept hearing the word “cancer” echoing in my head.

My next step would be to start radiation and possibly hormone treatment at the hospital cancer center. I was very cranky, to say the least, for the few days prior to my appointment with the oncologist. I was physically more uncomfortable than I had been so far. The removal of the stitches and the tubes left my underarm and breast very sore, and dealing with the reality of having cancer did nothing to improve my disposition. I've never been very good at maintaining a doom and gloom attitude for very long, and after a couple of days, I started feeling better.