I Know It Could Always Be Worse (but, come on, now.........)

We met with a potential plastic surgeon today in what felt like a marathon consultation. We started out from Rod's office at 10:30 for a 12:15 appointment, made amazing time into the city, arrived in the office at about 11:30 after parking in a (guaranteed by the neighborhood) very pricey garage, and were told that we had to wait until 12:15.

This was, after all a Fifth Avenue plastic surgeon. (Okay, so the address of the office is Fifth Avenue. But once you get to the building, you don't get to go in the cool doorman entrance; you have to go around the corner.) In a classic stereotype of sorts, many clients were there for botox and peels and such, and all the personnel there were both thin and shapely. Really uplifting (har har) to those of us not in the same condition. On reflection, the oncologist's office was a jollier place.

Well, we didn't get in until about 12:45, I think, and were there until about 2:30. He spent a lot of time talking to us, drawing nifty diagrams, and doing an exam (think, "before" photos.) But, he prefers to do a particular type of micro-reconstruction surgery, and it can only be done in New York due to the fact that his surgical partner can not operate in NJ, AND it takes around 9 hours. Nice guy, and I'm sure he's really good at what he does.

We are now even more educated about what our choices are, but no closer to having the "decision" conversation than we were last night. So, off to a 2nd opinion next Tuesday in Englewood, with another doctor from Dr. McIntosh's recommended list.

I need, need, need (!) to tell myself that the next two days are not for dwelling on what we still can't figure out. I need instead to take advantage of what a weekend holds - a chance to suspend medical reality, and an opportunity to catch up on rest and gather new energy to face the week ahead.

Maybe some Shabbat will help. As my grandmother would say, Nu? What could be bad?