Got back from a marvelous little getaway where we just ate and drank and napped and looked at the ocean. There is no real news on the FC (freaking cancer) front. I am going in circles with the insurance company to get an out-of-network waiver so I can have the plastic surgeon who works out of CCH instead of the other, perfectly acceptable plastic surgeon who works out of Worstoff hospital. Once the insurance company gives me a yea or nay I can call Dr. Korey and his office will coordinate with the operating room and the plastic surgeon and I will have the big DATE.

In the meantime it seems like every day I have to call the insurance company or three or more doctors offices to elicit or provide some kind of information, and there is the endless re-routing of calls, the bottomless pit of voicemail, and the waiting for and missing returned calls. Except with Dr. Korey's office which is wonderful.

Also, I did get my PET scan results and although I haven't yet had the official explanation from the oncologist (that appt is Monday next week), from what the nurse told me there is nothing unexpectedly bad in it. Yay!

And on a humorous note, when we were sitting in the airport to leave town last week this larger-than-life woman came huffing up with two giant shoulder bags. Glamorous gal with big jewelry and bright clothes and big makeup, and the first thing out of her mouth as she sat down next to us was that she'd had a mastectomy 16 years ago and it was harder to carry stuff now. So I told her my situation and Lord, was she enthusiastic. She stripped off her jacket to show me where they took her body fat from her back to reconstruct her, and then she's patting the bare part of her humongous breast and saying to me "just feel this, just put your hand right here" and I'm saying "Girlfriend, I am not putting my hand on your boob in the middle of the Orlando airport".

One out of eight women, my friends.