Take that, Herman!

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Good news on the Herman front, at least I think so. The original surgeon and the surgeon I went to for a second opinion agree that it is worth one more try at the less drastic approach to getting those evasive clear margins – another lumpectomy. I could dazzle you right now with my mastery of breast-cancer related acronyms and technical terms, but they are pretty annoying and confusing even to me, so I think I’ll keep it to myself.

The bottom line is, please pray for a successful surgery on February 15 and lovely clear margins so that I can quit being a frequent flyer in the outpatient surgery recovery room at St. Luke’s South and get on to the last part of Herman’s elimination, which will be six weeks of radiation followed by some medication for a few years. Which really doesn’t sound bad at all.

Thank you for your prayers. Before the weekend is over I am going to write about something more interesting on this blog. You can only take shark-watching too far. Bless you all, my friends! You certainly bless me.

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Bad Shark!

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Well, Herman is being difficult. I had my second lumpectomy surgery last Wednesday, but the margins still weren’t clear. That means that there are still some cancer cells in there somewhere. The next steps aren’t completely clear yet, but it is quite possible that we’ve reached the end of the minimally invasive road, and it may take a mastectomy to send Herman packing.

I’m not thrilled about this, and I’m a little bit more scared, well, let’s say respectful of Herman and his destructive potential. I’m frustrated because I thought I knew the plan, and now there are a pile of decisions that must be made and I don’t even understand most of them yet.

Some things haven’t changed, though. I am still blessed by wonderful family and friends who pray for me, give me hugs when I need it, and let me have meltdowns in their offices (you know who you are), or on their shoulders. Wonderful people who make bad jokes (only the women, though – I’ve discovered that men are generally afraid to make breast cancer jokes. This is probably just as well.) God still makes his presence known every day in dozens of ways, and I am never alone.

So, on to the next round of Herman fighting, armed as I have been with love and prayers, humor and hugs, and the power of learning to be still and let God work. Thank you all. We’ll keep shooting at Herman until he gives up and swims away!