Well, we saw the PA in the neurosurgeon's office who kind of gets up my nose, but she's smart. Showed me the piccie from the MRI, and I'm scheduled in for another gamma knife surgery on November 11, with the same team. The lesion is 6 mm, fairly small.

I'm supposed to get a call back from my regular oncologist's office, and apparently this is not as schitzo as it feels - the chest stuff IS looking really good, and once a cell has crossed the blood-brain barrier it can start to grow really quickly. So I'll have a PET scan, and then an MRI on the day of gamma knife. No chemotherapy in the offing, thank goodness.

I'm hanging in, not sleeping wonderfully, but whatever, about like usual. I recently got on touch with Stanford to participate in clinical trials, since I'm rapidly becoming a statistical anomaly for longer survival with metastaic breast cancer. I'd really like to be able to help out other cancer patients, and people like me that they can use for trials are a relatively small pool. I'm on deck for one sleep study - where I go down and sleep in a fauncy hotel in Palo Alto with sensors all over me. Not too rough. Apparently insomnia after chemo and such is a really, really common problem. Then I can be in line for new chemotherapy trials as well, if we need it down the line.

I STILL can kick ass of your wee metal colandar and tin foil. My groovy gamma girl helmet is titanium, and weighs 300 pounds. SO THERE.

More later.

I've canceled clinic today.

After reading these logs. I got dressed in something professional for work, long skirt, navy blue velvet top. Tried a sweater on with it, but felt too vulnerable. Very soft part cashmere navy wool blazer instead. The skirt is cream raw silk. It looks quite formal, but each piece is very soft.

When I see wild animals, I think of Rumi's Beloved. That is, I think that the animals are messages from the Beloved. Or from the collective unconscious, that we call them or they call us. Some days I think it's the electrons talking to each other and deciding whether they currently want to be organized or chaotic. Attracted or repelled. Other days, I think other things. Very Unitarian Universalist. Tolerance of multiple theories and different ideas.

Today I would like to be chaotic. After I was dressed and put on some makeup and had had a tantrum about it all in the Catbox, in the guise of civilized temper tag, I went to the hospital. I went to the 8 am Continuing Medical Education lecture, piped in by video (or live streaming or who the hell cares) from the University of Washington. It was about people on coumadin, rat poison, and whether it should or shouldn't be stopped before surgery. I did not absorb one word, honestly. I was not sure why I was there, but after a while I realized that it was my litmus test to see if I could cope with clinic today. Nope. I called a doctor friend, left a message. I went by the COO's office and left her a sticky note. I trailed into Dr. G's office and told him and cried. Then the COO overhead paged me and I cried on her. She will let the Rotary know, since I haven't been making it to meetings.

I don't want to eat.

I went to clinic, called all the patients, and rescheduled. I'm waiting for the one I couldn't reach. New patient. He is now 13 minutes late, so looks like he will no show. I told all my patients what was up, ranging from the details if it's a friend, to "bad family medical news today and I cannot concentrate on your visit as I would like". Everyone was very kind.

I'm going to go walk on the beach. I'm going to go make a Halloween thank you basket for my old clinic, because they have been enormously kind at answering my questions when I call them. "What's the CPT code for a welcome to medicare physical?" "What is an NPI number?" "Which dermatologist has the shortest referral waiting list currently?" So I want to thank them.

And back to the animals. See? I'm distractible and all over the place today. I wandered in here to get a lab slip and started writing this.

Deer. There is a 5 point buck. If five points means 5 on each antler. I don't know. I left church on Sunday and he was imitating a statue by the side of the road. I stopped the Thunderbird and rolled down the window. He stayed still and then moved. He walked in front of the car, slowly. I've seen him four more times this week. And moms and young deer. Not quite adolescents, but without their spots, about half the size of the doe. One with a hurt leg yesterday, the young one, and today a doe, limping. In my yard, driving my car, today two young deer right behind the clinic. They are so tame here that they don't spook at cars. The buck was 5 feet from my open window the other day.

And what do deer say to me, oh Best Beloved? The ideas attached to deer? Bambi and Bambi's mother. Vulnerable. Hunted. Eaten. But also elegant. Beautiful. The White Stag, leading the Huns and the Magyars. And a stag was the spirit animal for Harry Potter, wasn't it? Speed, rutting, strength, the fire in the Bambi movie, father, mother, child. Deer mothers care for their offspring, are showing them the windfall apples in my yard. The fathers are more distant, accuracy in the Disney Movie. The young male deer are just showing the buds of antlers. Vulnerable but with strengths and skills and even weapons.

And now it is an official no show and I am off to change, and the beach.

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