Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Lindsay's Birthday At The Beach



Having raged against the machine for a day, but only managing to wrestle it to a draw, Linda and I went out for dinner.

And a little wine.

We drove out of town to one of our favorite restaurants, the Waterfront Bistro, in Pickering. It was quiet, the food was excellent, the waiter was hilarious, the sun set over the marina behind us and we were reminded of the pleasures life has to offer.

Well, for a price. The Waterfront Bistro isn't cheap. But it is less expensive than psychotherapy. And we came away with two doggy bags.

Midway through the meal, Linda noticed I had become quiet and remote and she became concerned. I had spent the day making numerous phonecalls to various doctors at Princess Margaret Hospital to find out the results of my (not so recent) biopsy. My increasingly curt and angry voice is recorded for posterity on a variety of answering machines at the hospital.

"What are you thinking?" Linda asked quietly.

I was reluctant to tell her.

"Barry, please talk to me. What are you thinking?" She was looking concerned and kindly.

"I was wondering what to post for the blog about Lindsay tomorrow."

"What?" Linda's surprised inhalation momentarily sucked all the air from the bistro, causing the chatty people at the next table to experience a brief lightheadedness.

"I have a few ideas, but nothing that really appeals to me." I explained lamely.

Linda was flabbergasted (how often have you seen that word in print?). "I thought you might be getting depressed about your biopsy results?"

"Waste a lovely meal and a beautiful evening getting myself all upset about something I don't know and can't change even if I did know? I'd rather think about things I can actually do. And I can actually post a blog tomorrow about Lindsay. I enjoy that." I told her, moving the salt and pepper shakers away in case she decided to throw something.

Instead, she laughed and a lot of her stress drained away. "Well, why don't you post that slide show you made of her at the beach on her birthday. The one that has the shots of the movie set with the fake palm trees and the grass hut they were just dismantling on the beach at Bluffer's Park?"

It was a good suggestion.

So I did.

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10:30 am

I just received a follow-up phone call from my surgeon's secretary booking an appointment for me to meet with the surgeon tomorrow at 9:15.

So I now have appointments to discuss the biopsy results with the surgeon on Thursday and with the medical oncologist on Friday.

I should soon know more than (maybe) I want to about the results of the CT guided biopsy and its implications for my future.