like a diamond ...: hospitals

Thursday, December 13, 2007

hospitals

I don’t especially like hospitals.

I don’t like all the papers that have to be signed. I don't like having to read about everything that can go wrong. I don’t like the way I feel reduced to a set of medical numbers.

And I didn’t like the anesthesiologist that I met with. Hopefully he will not be “assigned” to me.

I feel very vulnerable today. On the way back from this pre-op visit I looked at the darkening sky and just started crying.

like a diamond ...

Before the mastectomy, I saw an MRI image of my invasive breast cancer on a computer screen. This was the day before they did the MRI-guided biopsy. There was nothing vague about it – it looked clear and defined, bright and shiny – like a diamond. When I saw it, I did not know that it was cancer, and I asked the Dr. what else it could be. Oh, a density of fibrous tissue or something, he said. All I knew was that it was different from everything around it, and I have come to trust that my breast cancer is, indeed, some kind of treasure.

Though I write honestly, and sometimes perhaps flippantly and cynically, about my experiences with breast cancer and the medical system, I mean no disrespect to the professionals who treat me. I am incredibly grateful for their knowledge and skills, their very hands(!) – and I am humbled by the way they dedicate their lives (and days and nights) to the health and care of our bodies (my body!). The personalities of my doctors and their assistants, with all of their human variations, truly do bless and charm me.