We showed up at at UCSF Medical Center at 6 a.m. to the hospital for the 7:30 a.m.bilateral mastectomy. "We" means me and Mark. I had told my parents not to worry about getting to the city so early.

Yes, I was concerned about them driving so early in the morning, but more selfeshly, I was afraid my mom would stress me out or question my decision one last time before I was rolled away. I told my parents it was useless for them to be there so early since it was such a long surgery, but my mom would have nothing to do with that. She wanted to kiss me and tell me she loved me before I was rolled away.

When they were putting the epidural in my back, it was a very painful process. Sitting on one bed and leaning my elbows on the higher operating bed, I was positioned like I was playing hide-and-go-seek, hiding my face down against my arms.

On the other side of the operating bed from me was Dr. Esserman. She leaned over me, gently holding down my arms, stroking the back of my neck and hair like a mother comforts a child. She softly sang songs from "Phantom of the Opera" and "Wicked" while stinging needles were being dug into my back like I'd just swam through a swarm of jellyfish. They were numbing the area with pricks of needles before digging around to find the correct cavity for the epidural's resting place for the next three days constanct supply of pain medication.

I'll write more later when I'm not falling asleep evey other word.