Abi was a thumb sucker from the womb. We have ultrasound pictures with her sucking her thumb. She is also a hopeless optimist. She can find something positive in almost any situation... When she was around 3 years old, she somehow smashed her thumb while playing outside. She came running to the house holding her bleeding thumb almost in hysterics.. It took a few minuets to calm her down and figure out what happened... Her response? "At least it's not my (sob) suck thumb!"
OK, Monday was terrible. I had a Xanax, and slept like a baby anyway. I was awakened Tuesday morning by someone shaking my leg. I found out that it was the oncologist. He had a MUCH different bedside manner than the surgeon from the day before. He, like every other doctor, wanted to hear my story on how I got there. He listened closely, and only stopped me a couple of times to ask for clarification. When I mentioned having cancer, he interrupted and raised his hand to say " wait a minuet! You don't know if you have cancer. We haven't biopsied anything!" I had a little hope restored... This guy wasn't all pie in the sky, he was careful to point out that my situation was very serious, but he also made sure that I had something to grab on to.
Let me stop now to say that I had something to grab on to the whole time. As a Christian, my hope does not come from man, regardless. Right from the beginning, the thought of dying was not one of my fears. (It still isn't!) Of course, I do not want to die, but I have no fear of what comes next or where I go from here...
The fact is, I was relieved that maybe I would be sticking around for a little while longer! They setup a liver biopsy for later that day. That was the first time I was "put under" since I had my tonsils out when I was four... They also drew a bunch of blood for more tests, and I went back to the waiting/holding pattern...
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