"My surgeon, Dr. Alexandria Heerdt, is waiting inside, and I'm relieved by the sight of a friendly smile. "How are you doing, Deanna?" she asks, her voice slightly muffled by her mask.
I'd like to answer, but I'm distracted by the nurse who seems determined to jab a hole into the back of my left hand. She's trying to start an IV for the anesthetic, but few nurses have ever been able to find a vein on my left side.
"Try my right hand," I say, anxiety welling up in my throat......
Hands lift my left arm and slip a blood-pressure cuff around my biceps. Other hands press electrocardiograph monitors to my chest and tape them in place. My fingertip feels a light pinch as hands position the clip that will measure my blood oxygen levels.
I try to look for my doctor, but my heavy eyelids have frozen shut.
Somewhere in the darkness, hands have adjusted the IV that is pouring anesthetic into my body, numbing all sensation.
My skin contracts in another slow shiver.
Why didn't they tell me I'd be so cold?
The surgeon will soon take her chilly scalpel and open my breast, removing the cancer that threatens my life...."
"Don't Bet Against Me" - by Deanna Favre
I was only in the prologue of this book, sitting in the commons at South High School where I work.
It was lunch and the room is filled with students.
I stop reading because the tears are ready to fall.
It was there that I decided that somehow I would be at my Mom's side down in Florida when she has her surgery.
There's no other option.