Mammo Grahams

You’ve got to love a man who says they like you because you have opinions. Even better when it’s coming from the man who has your breast in his hands, as you both admire his previous handiwork. Maybe more appreciate than admire. And he has opinions based on your opinions – and it’s all based on your well-being. A total well-being. I was surprised when he said that as it has been my experience recently, and with the last bout of cancer, that doctors just want you to do what they want you to do, putting you in the box that they are incapable of thinking outside of. I know I griped about this before, but it bears repeating. Besides, I love my surgeon. He’s adorable.

Now, if it were my brain, I would have to think long and hard about someone mucking about with my ability to think long and hard. And this I base on people I know losing loved ones, and my own loss of the woman who was like a surrogate mother to me (not my step-mother or anyone related to me), from an operation that I deemed not only unnecessary, but botched. She died as a result of the operation, not as a result of the benign brain tumor, and it was a sad deterioration.

But this a breast. It’s not something I think with, I don’t need it to walk or talk, taste, see, smell or feel. I don’t breath with my breast, and breathing is a necessity that I don’t want to jeopardize to keep something that is kind of unnecessary. No disrespect. I am not knocking breasts, and don’t want to lose either one, but it is an option I am willing to consider. And as it turns out, my decision to forego radiation the last time turned out to be prudent, as the cancer that manifested in tiny stage one tumors, one in either breast, did not return. This cancer, which is two even smaller lumps in a different area of one breast, is new, and would not have been prevented by radiation. Plus, if I had had the radiation, I could not have it again. Not in the breast. The oncologist back then, seemed disgusted with me when I tried to discuss other options, and the radiation oncologist, with whom I was all set to start therapy, had distinct dufus qualities about him, and when I asked him if, as it was flu season, if he recommended I get a flu shot, or if it could possibly have detrimental effects, he had no opinion. I didn’t know. How would I. But I thought it was a question I should ask. Could there be a bad reaction, would it be a good idea to ward off the flu especially due to the weakening effects of the radiation? I couldn’t believe that no one had ever asked these questions before, but apparently not of him. He had no idea, and showed no interest in even finding out about it. I wasn’t feelin’ him. But, my surgery went well and I liked my surgeon, now even more so. I have a sonogram scheduled next week and an MRI the Friday of the following week so we can decide what kind of action to take, and then, well I’ll let you know. But as you can see, my situation is not dire and time, while not being overlooked, is also not of the essence.

I’m not getting another mammogram, I just like the picture. There are several pictures and recipes for mammo-grahams throughout the internet, but this was the only one I found that didn’t show only white or pink breasts.

BTW – Do you know I have never been to Arby’s? But that Bourbon Bacon & Brisket that they’re advertising now? Tempting.