That would be the most fun way to tell the story. And it is, technically, true. The tattoo was part of the nuclear medicine portion of the day at the hospital. We started in the breast center, where my mom had another MRI. Then it was nuclear medicine for isotope dye to locate the lymph node in the armpit. Then the surgery center, where we sat. For a long, long time. The surgeon got behind, so we had an extra two hours to wait.
I am officially out of polite and entertaining chatter. I have told every story I can think of and some I can’t. Except for the ones about food. I wasn’t supposed to tell stories about food since she couldn’t eat. I talk about food a lot it turns out.
The surgery went well. The doctor feels positive about everything. The tumor was the size of a Q-Tip head and he removed about a golf-ball-sized chunk around it. The lymph node is also out and appears to be clear. We’re all relieved.
After 11 hours at the hospital, I was very thankful to stick my body in the pool and eat pizza. Today it’s all about pampering the patient, but I did sneak out for a good long walk before the temperature hits triple digits.