Oct. 23, 2008
Insanity from the gate today. Scurry to get max to school- and toddlers never “scurry”. “Mom, can I bring Iron Man and Doc Oc?” “Is it share day?”, “Can ants jump?””Why Scout can’t swim yet?”… Sweet mama… from school directly to Dept. of Public Social Services where I wait with the “flavor” of humanity to try and get my Mom on MediCal. (Oh, yeah, in the midst of this entire crap-fest, she is now broke and needs to get on Medi-Cal or SSI in order to stay in her facility. As it goes, either way, she has to move from her private room/sanctuary into a shared one. She also has to give up her cat. I am too heartbroken to even tell her… Hopefully the Alzheimer’s will work with me and she’ll forget to hate me… Oh yeah- not gonna be telling her about the boob saga either. Anyway- dealing with any government agency might be less fun than Cancer- then add dragging your 1 year old, nap deprived daughter along… yaaa-hoo! I waited an hour then they called me in to tell me I have to go somewhere else- the woman must have seen the desperate look on my face and took pity on me… or took one look at smiley Scout- and did it for me. She hooked me up so I don’t have to go elsewhere, just collect a couple other documents and mail back to her for processing… I almost made out with her but I’m pretty sure those offices all have panic buttons in every cubicle…
Then home. Chaos of trying to get this website updated and worked out. It’s been 3 weeks since the 1st “friend test” went up and I can’t co-ordinate w/ Scott to update it myself. It’s frustrating since I have to keep re-explaining my situation to everyone instead of sending them here…
then Good stuff; my pal found this while googling us:

http://www.zimbio.com/The+New+York+Times/articles/756/Bloggie+Awards+Mother+Load+nabs+nod

That’s right- NY f-ing Times! And the site ain’t even functional! I needed it because then I got the call from Doc Kusske (My surgeon). Good: the Carcinoma is only in the upper right portion of my right breast. None in the other. None in my lymph nodes. Bad: there’s so much up there, she’d have to take out 6+ centimeters. Leaving me with basically no boob, unless of course she can somehow transplant my humongous ass zit to that area. She was surprised when I cut her off and said let’s go ahead with the Mastectomy. But it was her recommendation and what she said she would do if it were her. I just do not want to ever go thru this again. Period. Now, if i happen to get Blue Cross to ante up for some hot knockers, so be it… Yes, I’m doing both cause I don’t want the saggy, old one to get jealous of the perky “Barbie” one. Yes, I worry. Yes, I’m so stunned and still shocked that this is really happening but- hell- I really only care about being around for this family- a few scars and a coupla nipples are a small price to pay. (And no, I won’t be Disney-ing up my blog cause some dude got pissy on a website…)
Tomorrow, I call surgeons and ask 100 questions about my incoming knockers. I’m waiting for after halloween to schedule because a Wendy with huge bazooms is totally inappropriate…
Ended on an up note because I have the funniest, rockinest husband and kids who make me laugh all the time. Even when I’m ready to go fetal.