Wedding #2: Where worlds collide

Wedding Week #2 is underway! Our mothers have been wonderful about planning some of the details of this event so that Michael and I could focus on getting our house ready for guests and, oh yeah, planning the ceremony for Saturday! Our plan for Saturday is to be pretty laid back, not nearly as formal as the California wedding. We'll do a short ceremony mid-afternoon, probably have some toasts, but otherwise plan to just hang out, with not much of a program. We just want to be with people! We are looking forward to that part quite a lot.

In the midst of all our thinking about that, I thought I should also check in with the doctor and see if my mastectomy ever got on the schedule. (Story of my life.) I had put in a request for October 15 a month ago, but never heard back. So yesterday I called. The nurse who called me back was one of our favorites - such that we had invited her to our wedding! She was the nurse who, during my first biopsy, had held my hand and chatted with me about life and faith, calming me down during what was a very emotional procedure. She was the nurse who bought us a wedding gift - something she saw and thought we should have. Really a sweet lady. So we talked about some medical stuff, then I asked if we would see her on Saturday. She said yes, both she and Dr. Skinner had it on their calendars! I was so tickled. I guess they probably don't get to experience many joyous events with their patients, so this is probably a real treat for them.

When we first started talking, I was fine. I have had October 15th in my head for my next mastectomy for months, and even though I don't want to do it, I know that it is necessary if I want to try to get pregnant and not get cancer instead. Only once have I really felt weepy about this. But now suddenly the nurse was talking about the MRI, and the pre-op, and all that stuff... and I started to feel sick to my stomach.

I have had in my head all this time that this would be easy, easier than the last one. I know what to expect, I know I can do it, I know what it's going to look like on the other side. Since it will be so much easier emotionally (I thought), I thought surely it would be easier physically and logistically. But now it's all coming back to me: surgery sucks no matter how many times you have it. It's painful. It makes you feel ill. It prevents you from moving or sleeping how you like. And worst of all, this particular surgery makes me not have boobs. And I rather like boobs. Or should I say, boob. It feels weird and different. I don't wanna.

But, you gotta do what you gotta do. It'll happen, and I can pout all I want, but it'll be just fine in the end. So I pulled up my socks and went about my day.

Today I got another call from the doctor. It seems my MRI needs to happen between day 7 and 14 of my cycle, which I'm in right now. And my periods are so erratic that I might not be at this point in my cycle again until sometime in October, which is too late to get the requisite MRI a couple weeks in advance of the mastectomy. (The purpose of the MRI is to make sure my right breast is still cancer free, because if there is cancer, then how we go about the mastectomy will be different and more invasive.) So I need to get the MRI this week. The only time available is Thursday night at 9:30pm. 9:30pm?? They do MRIs then? Apparently so. So now, instead of spending Thursday night with my brother and sister-in-law, who are flying in from Houston around dinner time, I will be at the hospital making sure I don't have cancer. Not how expected wedding weekend part II to go.

I can't help but think about my last MRI, which I had on April 1, the day of my bridal shower. It was such a beautiful day, and I found out that day that the scan had been clear. But then two days later I found out I had cancer again after all. And I think about how when I came in to see my surgeon after that, and after we'd given her an invite for the wedding, her first words were, "So am I uninvited?" The fact that the park in which we chose to hold this shindig is a stone's throw from the hospital is also not lost on me.

How would I feel if I had this MRI on Thursday, and then sometime on Friday, while we are arranging flowers and greeting people as they arrive into town and getting ready for Saturday, someone calls me to say, "Sorry, but you need to come in for a biopsy next week"? I know the what-if game rarely if ever yields positive results, but really - how would I feel? (If I can prepare myself for it, it is easier, right?)

Honestly, I think I'd feel fine. It's not like I've never heard the C word before - I'm a pro at it by now! It's not going to change the fact that I need a mastectomy, it'll just make it a little more invasive. It's not going to change my life plan any more than it already has. And most importantly, it is not going to change the fact that I am celebrating my marriage to the love of my life on Saturday, surrounded by family and friends. I will celebrate that under any circumstances. In fact, if I get less than desirable news from this MRI, I will celebrate all the more than I have this wonderful man and this wonderful (and ever increasing!) family to walk with me through the next part of my journey.

Take that, cancer! Let's party!

Michael and I journey together.
(My grandpa's Memorial money paid for much of this labyrinth.)