Got a call from the genetic counselor this morning. Ducked into the tiny “phone booth” room sandwiched between the men’s room and the two mother’s rooms in our office for the impression of privacy. As one who used to sit at a desk just outside all three amenities, don’t be fooled: there’s no sound-proofing in that snug refuge.
Good news! Genetic testing revealed….nothing. Sharp little tears of relief.
And I scheduled the MRI-guided biopsy for the first available time slot. Which is 10 days from now. When asked how long the procedure should take, Nurse said, “Give yourself three hours.”
Which means that 229.5 hours from now, I should be out of the dreaded MRI machine and wearing an ice pack.