...and we'll all drown unless we cut ties to the anchor...
Yesterday was so wonky and awful. I got pulled over for speeding in a school zone because I was driving the regular speed limit, but didn't realize I was on the backside of a school. When I got home from the community center, I was just sort of panicky because my plastic surgeon's appointment was in a matter of hours and I couldn't find anything from my insurance company saying what approval rates are, how much would need to be removed to be considered "medically necessary" and the fact that they're going to want me to loose at least 20 pounds, probably 40. The whole weight thing I find kind of terrifying because I've never been on a diet in my life. When I've lost weight it's been because of random meds that made the propect of food repulsive or made eating painful. And while I'm eating better, trying to cut down on my sweets (which is hard because EVERY SINGLE TOOTH IS A SWEET TOOTH), making sure I'm actually hungry and eating meals, not snacks, and going to the community center gym, I am still afraid that my weight is what will keep me from getting something that will help with my all over health and make exercise easier.
I went to my primary doctor's office and got out of paying for my visit since they did screw up my arm and they did all say "wow, that looks pretty bad. I have to go back on Friday to get an ultrasound of my arm in case I have "a physical anomoly" and she really did hit my arm. Otherwise they're thinking a vein was blown or scraped.
This is what my arm looked like 5 days after my blood draw. Those bruises aren't anywhere near where they stuck me. Fuck.
I hung out with my mom and dad. My dad is losing more hair and his eyelashes are gone. We joked that chemo was the only way he was going to lose hair. We're worried about him because he's been running a borderline temperature since chemo and may have to go spend today at the ER if it hits 100 degrees, per doctor's orders.
My plastic surgery appointment was awesome. I really like Dr. Korentager, I didn't feel awkward or poor or fat like I usually do at plastic surgeon's offices (they people there always look like they just stepped off the set of the "The OC", I don't get it, we're in Kansas City!). Of course, I still had to sit around for half an hour in a paper vest and be photographed. He very graciously talked about how it will be a very drastic change and I will probably have to lose weight. He also made an appointment for me to be seen at the High-Risk Cancer Clinic to go talk to a geneticist. I knew that my aunt and great aunt died of breast cancer and that my grandmother had it at one point, but what I didn't know until then was that my grandmother's three other sister also had breast cancer. So, yay for genetic counseling and making my mom confront the fact that cancer runs in her family and she better be more serious about it. I definitely feel more hopeful about the whole situation than yesterday. He finished typing up the letter to the insurance company before we even left and said we should hear back in 3-4 weeks, but to even call the health insurance company before then to get them moving on it.
I'm still slightly terrified though. I've already spent one year of my life doing everything necessary to get this done, spent all this money on doctor's appointments and chiropractors and had all this information sent off, got my hopes up and it was dashed. I don't know what will happen if it happens again. I know I'll lose it. I can't go through that again.
But I'm trying to be optimistic and do everything necessary to get this done.