I've got cancer, bitch!

She was nothing like all of the other nurses, doctors, and technicians that I've met so far. She was wearing earrings I would expect to find on a hooker and she had long fingernails (unsuitable for typing) and a bad attitude. She was one of the receptionists at the pediatric wing of the Benedict building. There was nobody in line, so we stepped up to the desk to check in for my appointment with the genetic counselor - we weren't late, but we were less early than I'd like to be for my 10:00 AM appointment.

Her: "Hmm, you're not in the system" (keep in mind, her tone of voice and pattern of speech was less-than-refined. I couldn't possibly do it justice in print)

Me: "Well, I know we made this appointment kind of late on Friday..."

Her: "You had a cancelled appointment at 8:45 this morning" (how helpful...)

Me: "Yeah."

Her: "And somethin' later this week"

Me: "Yeah, but I know I have an appointment with Dr. So-and-So this morning at 10:00 AM"

Her: "Well, I don't have nuthin' in our system. You gonna hafta step around the corner and talk to one of those ladies over there who can do some research". (seriously - did she think I was lying? What kind of "research" does this entail? Is someone going to write a term paper about what an idiot this woman was?)

There was no one else in line behind me, but somehow she couldn't deal with me and this mythical appointment that I must be lying about. So, we stepped "around the corner", faced with several ladies to choose from (it would have been nice for her to be more specific...). We stood in a line that shortly turned out to be the wrong line, and finally I arrived in front of another (thankfully, competent) receptionist who promptly took my information and found that I did, indeed, have an appointment with Dr. So-and-So at 10:00 AM. (Thank you!)

Ahh...

Later that day, Rusty and I were alone in the car and I immediately said something about that hooker-earring receptionist. I wasn't really upset about it. It's just that I'm the kind of person that enjoys dwelling on these bite-sized happenings - those snippets of life that just seem a little crazy, a little silly, a little ludicrous. The incompetence and the 'tude of the hooker-earring receptionist was just so appalling. When you deal daily with people who have cancer (especially little people - we were in the pediatric wing, after all!) I would expect a little more compassion. She was a stark contrast to the sweet and gentle nurse who took a small vial of blood for my genetic testing (so gentle I barely felt it - she truly has found her calling in the pediatric ward).

Anyway, once we were in the car I said to Rusty, "Man, I couldn't believe her attitude. Seriously, I mean, 'I have cancer, bitch!'" He laughed, and we proceeded to talk about how awesome every single person has been thus far. She just didn't belong in a pediatric cancer ward. We agreed that she was better suited for cleaning up someone's poop. :-)

As we were driving, we got stuck behind someone going about 50 MPH on the highway (I may be exaggerating - I do have a bit of a reputation as a leadfoot). As we passed her we both looked at her and I yelled (totally jokingly) "Get out of the way! I have cancer, bitch!" That provided another round of laughs.

So, I've decided that's going to be my new catchphrase. (When appropriate, of course.) It's much easier to say something silly and slightly profane in the face of insensitivity than to let it get to me.

The rest of the day was fairly hospital-y. I had a contrast-dye MRI (not something I'd recommend for passing the time on a Monday afternoon) and I met with a genetic counselor who's going to help me try to save my boob(s). I hope that works out. I'm kind of attached to them.

My mom also gave me the cutest bear:

In this picture, you can see one of my other bears (of the Grateful Dead variety) holding the new bear. The new bear is from the American Cancer Society and he has daffodils on his feet and he's holding a daffodil in his hands. It's one of those things that I think is so thoughtful and I'm not sure if my mom knows exactly how excited I was when I saw it. Sometimes you just need a thing. A thing to have and hold and bring with you to comfort you.

I decided he's going to come with me to all of my appointments. I was thinking about bringing my pink Grateful Dead bear (not the one pictured here - I have several). However, she's a little... um... obvious and oversized (but don't tell her I said that). I may be on the young side for breast cancer, but it is a little silly for a 27 year-old to be carrying around a big ol' pink bear. The Daffodil Bear is just the right size to tuck in my bag and he's really soft.

Anyway, tomorrow is my bone scan and CT scan. Looking forward to not being able to eat or drink anything from midnight 'till 11 AM. Ugh.