Pre-Op Hi hubski, I had some minor surgery yesterday. It might have been unnecessary - who knows. There is so much great technology in Canada's FREE health care system, that we may as well use it. But maybe, too, the surgery was necessary. On the mammogram, the radiologists found an area of microcalcifications. The microcalcifications themselves are not the problem, but often unusual cells are found in the areas where microcalcs show up. They biopsied five cells in the area and found them to be moving in the direction of badness, but not bad yet. They said I could wait or they could remove the small area and biopsy the whole mass. The doctor said that 95% of the time, they find nothing bad there. By bad, I mean cancer. "OK," I say. "Let's take it out." A few weeks ago, they placed a radioactive bit of metal about the size of a grain of rice in the location where the surgery will occur. I was glowing. But here's the story I want to tell: I went in yesterday at 7:30 a.m. They did all the prep, IV, etc. etc. and wheeled me down the hall and up an elevator into the surgical suite. The surgeon chatted with me and introduced me to the anaesthesiologist who asked me a few questions. Then she said, "There used to be a woman with your last name (very astute of her, because I changed the spelling) who worked for the city Health Department." "That was my mother," I said. "She was the Director of the Child and Adolescent Clinic for the city. She's still alive. She's 89." "My mother worked with her," the anaesthesiologist said. "My mother's name was..." I'm forgetting the name now, but it was a familiar one. I knew the names of everyone on my mother's staff. "I even volunteered in the clinic for a summer." "So did I," I said. "Your mother did amazing work, organizing teams, opening new clinics around the city, helping children. My mother loved working with her. When you see her, tell her she is fondly remembered in this city." At that point, all my fears about anaesthesia disappeared. I went under, knowing that this woman would watch out for me like family.
that's lovely. a member of my former synagogue congregation took my gallbladder out. he didn't find out until later that i was the current board president's daughter, but i think it was better he didn't know because it took some pressure off of him not to know he was operating on the president's daughter.
This brought tears of joy to my eyes. Your mother sounds wonderful, but then... that isn't surprising. You're a giver too.