The Book Babe Speaks

My surgeon, the one performing my mastectomy, is fabulous. I have been having some trouble making the decision over a single or a double mastectomy. Freaking out is the term I would use for this. So I called him today, in a fit of indecision and about two seconds away from having a compete freek fit, and he was great. He told me not to rush the decision and that if I need to move the surgery back, I can. He explained more about the genetic testing for the breast cancer gene and what that would mean. He was wonderful and I am no longer freaking out. At least as much…. I am very happy that I have a great surgeon who is not only nice but also a total llama. Much like my plastic surgeon (not actually plastic).

Have I mentioned how much this whole thing sucks? Oh well, such is life.