Surgeon of my dreams

I'm here. Alive. Not that I had a real doubt, but it's nice to put it out there. Didn't all go as planned, but nothing ever really does for me. Something about me being a child that almost wasn't, I guess. My surgeon bent lots of rules and got the whole team in for my urgent Saturday morning surgery. Suddenly I was in the OR, getting and IV and crying my eyes out from nerves and fear --and that was it, I was asleep. I also think I told my surgeon I love her. That's a good feeling to have for the person who, in many ways, holds your life in their hands. I don't remember much about waking up except I was sleepy and cried, and could hardly speak. My mom and dad were there, and the nurses were talking about calling D. He arrived shortly with C de Lune. Funny, she didn't think they had done anything to me yet and simply wondered why I was whispering.

I also remember my surgeon telling me that the surgery went well, that the cancer wasn't attached to anything --no chest wall, no muscle, nothing. But that the lymph nodes hadn't been biopsied yet, since no pathologists were working that day. She did take some out though, and from what they looked like, she doubts they are anything but clear --but I'll know that for sure a bit later. I might be cancer free right now, I don't know.

So, I'm achy but not in serious pain, I can walk around and use my arms a bit and type, obviously. I feel like I played pitcher in a major league baseball game without ever have practiced. The morphine side effects freak me out so I'm trying tylenol. Not to worry though, I'm not alone and there's plenty of meds to help.