Dancing at Fisherman's Wharf in the Afternoon Sun

We waited for our appointment with the surgeon with trepidation. The first bit of news he told us was good. The surgery was successful and the margins were clear. I was healing well. The second part of the news was a blow. The surgeon reported that there was some lymph node involvement. The little waiting examination room was closing in.

What now? The surgeon told us the next step was to get a pet/ct scan which would tell us if the cancer had spread beyond the lymph nodes. I tried to make the appointment before I left the building. We wanted this as soon as possible. It was Thursday afternoon and too late to reach the office to get my appointment scheduled.

The receptionist with long sculpted nails and false eyelashes advised me, "don't eat because you have to fast before the test. I will call you by 8:30AM and let you know if we got you in."

We went home shell shocked. As luck would have it I had forgotten my cell phone to call the immediate family. When I thought about it, it was probably meant to be. We had to digest this a bit. I had  called my sister who was waiting to hear from us  borrowing and phone and told her to tell my girls. I would email Devora and Andy in Israel later.

We got home and could barely function Somehow we managed waffles later in the evening. Waffles are a good thing when you are half crazy with worry. I called my sister in law Judy in Los Angeles. Judy is a breast cancer surgeon herself. Throughout all this she has been  a steadfast source of information; calm, giving me her quiet advice and reassurance and checking in on me often.

She told me that even though there was lymph involvement, it did not mean it had spread. We clung to those words.

I was also making myself crazy going to the internet. I learned that is a huge no-no. There is way too much information on there and  I felt my body practically going into a wave of shock with everything I read.

The next morning I waited by the phone to hear about my appointment. 8:30 came and went and no phone call from the receptionist with the long nails and lashes. At 8:40 I called UCSF myself and got bounced around finally finding out she was out for the day and did not leave any message about my appointment for the pet scan.

Now I'm angry. This was the first time I felt let down by UCSF. The operator suggested I leave a message but I demanded to speak to a real, live body which turned out to be my surgeon's practice assistant. I explained the situation and that I was fasting. She said she would get back to me soon.

Within ten minutes I got a call and was told that I had the appointment for Saturday morning at the UCSF radiology department in China Basin, new UCSF facilities. I was incredibly relieved to get that appointment. I also got a call from the oncologist's office.

 Initially I was told I would be seen the following Monday.  Then there was second call we would have to wait for two weeks. I could not accept that information. There was no way Jeff and I could delay finding out what was happening with me.  I called and emailed the nurse practitioner and we managed to confirm my appointment for Monday with the oncologist. Sometimes you have to be relentless.

It was a huge relief to have that appointment as well. The waiting was so difficult. We wanted to know what was going on. We wanted a plan of action.

We prayed a lot. Devora in Israel is my five star general when it comes to faith and prayer. She was making special mishaberach's (blessings)  for me as were other people.

A good friend had brought us Shabbat dinner. It was difficult to eat. And it was our forty third anniversary. We put our anniversary celebration on hold.

Not my idea of how I would ever spend Shabbat morning, but we headed to UCSF early. To say we  were nervous doesn't describe our feelings. Both of us could cry at the drop of a hat. Any song on the radio would set me off. We were hovering on a precipice.

It was tricky finding the modern facilities even with our GPS. It turned out to be near the Giants ballpark. I might have put in the wrong address in the GPS. We did find the place finally after asking someone on the street, and I went in the very modern building. Two guards at a desk directed me to where I needed to go.

Jeff went to find the parking facility which was an adventure in itself. I was getting nervous because I was afraid they would call me before he found me in this maze of offices.

He came in just as they were calling me. The procedure involved first getting an IV with a glucose solution. This is what shows up any hot spots. After waiting for an hour for the glucose to take effect, they took me to the machine, a big white oval tube. Fortunately I don't get  claustrophobia  so  it didn't bother me.

I had to lay still with my arms overhead while the machine scanned me from head to toe for around a half hour. I tried to be calm. I sang as much of the Shabbat morning service as I knew by heart, over and over. The technician would come in to tell me how much longer.

At last it was done, and we headed across the city to be with  Elana and Saul and to see baby Elijah with his delicious cheeks and big smiles. Laurie and Ari were coming with baby Shaya, our little blonde bundle with his spiked hair. The best medicine for me is seeing my little guys.

Finally Monday arrived. We got to Divisadero St. in a silent daze. When the young doctor came in he had a piece of paper with notes first confirming some information with me, Then he told us that my pet/ct scan was negative, clear, no spread.

We almost kissed him. We cried and laughed. At that moment I no longer cared what the rest of the treatment would be. I would face it, welcome it, get through with it. I would kick this cancer in the butt.

The oncologist was blessedly matter of fact. He said the "gold standard" was a course of chemo, then radiation then ongoing drug therapy. I had dreaded the thought of "chemo." Now I said, "bring it on." We got what we prayed for, a clear course of action.

We stumbled out of the building quickly making phone calls. We knew we couldn't go home and headed to Fisherman's Wharf. It was a beautiful afternoon. Tourists strolled, seagulls squawked. We got something to eat, and for the first time in days feeling some appetite.

There was a great street performer playing danceable music. We sat on a bench in the afternoon sun holding hands,  kissing and listening to him. I got up and danced.