He sat by the bed and drew me a little picture on a piece of paper. An ovary. A big circle coming off it. Like a balloon tied to a pebble.
“The CT scan looks encouraging,” he said. “The walls of the cyst look smooth. No obvious signs that it has spread. The blood test we use for ovarian cancer, CA-125, is only mildly elevated. All of that makes me hopeful this is benign. But I can’t promise that until we remove it and the pathologist examines it.”
“When?”
“Thursday. Three days from now.”
“Will I survive it?”
He didn’t flinch. I liked him for that.
“You’re eighty, and this is major surgery,” he said. “There’s risk. But you’re strong. Your heart is good. I’ve done this operation on women older than you. I think you’ll do well.”Support Causes
Thomas asked him about the cost. Dr. Osei said the billing office would go over it with us. Medicare would cover most of it. My supplemental plan through Charter Oak’s retiree program would cover a good part of the rest. But afterward, I’d probably need two or three weeks in a rehab facility before I could go home.
