Testing and more testing today. Pulmonary function tests and other tests that I can't even name. At one point, I was standing in nuclear medicene wondering if I was going to set off the alarms at an airport. "Quick, down on the ground. You are carrying a nuclear bomb in your lungs."
For what seemed like hours, oh wait it was hours, I breathed in and out. Over and Over. Into all types of tubes. While people measured my input, output, capacity, strength - even how much where and when.
I pray that I passed the standards to be cleared for surgery. Then we met with the mediport guy who went over the procedure to place a port for chemotherapy. Like I said -- we are proceeding as if either one could happen.
I don't know when I will get the results. I hope sooner rathe than later. I will but the docs like there is no tomorrow. The receptionists will learn to hate me. "Oh, she's on line one again."
I don't care. I only want to move on. For at least another 30 years.