Surgery

SUMMARY: We arrived arount 8:30 today for Judy's surgery. They first performed a needle localization procedure in which they did another MRI and literally placed a needle in the tumor. She had a needle sticking out of her breast for the 3 plus hours of waiting. They took her to surgery just a couple of minutes before 1:00 P.M. and told me it would take about 2 hours. As soon as I hear something and can get back online, I'll update this blog.

If you're bored and have time to kill, read on.
Houston is a city of--how can I describe this?--a city of quick starts and immediate stops. It all began last night when "Whiplash Wally" took us from the airport to get our rental car. Whiplash Wally is a safe driver, just not a smooth driver. Every time he placed the bus in motion, he jumped on the accelerator, causing the bus to jerk forward and giving us whiplash. He would stop just as quickly. Whiplash Wally was actually preparing us for Houston.
This morning we left Barry & Sherry's house about 7:40 A.M., just in time for the infamous (non)rush hour traffic. The traffic would be at a standstill, then all of a sudden, lanes would open and everyone would hit the accelerator and the "Houston 500" would begin (you know, the Houston 500 is similar to the Indianapolis 500 race except at the Indianapolis Speedway the racers don't take off as fast and, even though the travel in circles, they actually have forward motion). A newbee to the Houston 500 is given false hope--you know, that the race has actually begun once the traffic begins to flow. The breakneck start is almost immediately interrupted by the "slam-on-the-brakes-the-traffic-stopped-on-a-dime" ritual. The whole commute is executed in this manner. Anyone who cannot keep up with the arythmic pace is either killed, smashed, or banned to the shoulder.
This morning's commute was intensified by the rain. Not normal rain, but true-to-Houston's rhythm, would start like driving into a waterfall, then mysteriously quit like--like--like driving out of a waterfall. The wipers on the Houston cars have two speeds: faster-than-the-speed-of-sound or off.
We arrived at M.D. Anderson and continued the routine of hurry/stop. We checked in and Judy was immediately taken for the "cross your heart and hope to die or stick a needle in your--oh wait, it's eye, not boob"--never mind.
Judy was immediately take to the magical room where they stick a needle in places needles were not intended to go. At this moment, she was officially in the "on deck" circle. They invited me back to her holding cell--I mean waiting room. You won't believe what they placed over the needle. (Remember that the needle is sticking out of her right breast at the place where the doctor would operate.) Women talk about having a "C" cup or another letter of the alphabet. Judy had a----are your ready for this----she had a---you won't believe this---she had a--she's gonna kill me for writing this--she had a--this is too good to hold--she had a 16 ounce cup. That's right folks, M.D. Anderson, master of technology, used a styrofoam 16 ounce cup taped to her breast over the needle. (My life will be over as soon as Judy is alert enough to read this, but boy was it funny.) Madonna has nothing on my precious wife.
As you can guess, I'm in the waiting room, just waiting and writing and probably getting into trouble. I had promised to give updates throughout the day, but he holding cell--I mean waiting room had zero connectivity. I couldn't get text messages, phone calls, or the reprieve from the governor.
It's now 2:37 and I'm going to post this. Hopefully I'll be getting a page from the surgeon soon. Keep praying--especially that Judy wakes up with a good sense of humor. If not, I'll be admitted to a local hospital for head wounds.