So when did this all start? Well the short answer is last month and the long answer is way before the two of us ever met. Over the years any "routine" mammogram led to a second more extensive diagnostic image to take a closer look at a couple of spots. The result was always the same, nothing to worry about here. But suddenly this summer it grew, seemingly overnight. The concern was evident on her doctors face and a diagnostic mammogram was quickly ordered.

Neither of us expected her to get the results then and there so she went off to this alone. Of course right then and there the radiologist gave her the worst news possible. I felt terrible that she got this right between the eyes and was all alone. When she called me at work and told me my heart sank. At the same time though neither of us was really surprised. She was scheduled for a biopsy the following Friday and given all sorts of information as to how much pain she'd be in afterwards and how she'd have to plan for some downtime for recovery. But before her date with the biopsy needle there was to be a prior engagement with a "breast specialist".  Turns out breast specialist is a euphemism for surgeon.

We had an appointment with Doctor Mark Cripe on a Tuesday morning. I'd expected to meet an arrogant jerk with a god complex. I don't know why, other than I have run into a number of doctors over the years who are convinced they are the second coming with pictures of themselves walking on water back in pre school. (I must also admit this stereotype of mine is terribly unfair because I've also met so many who are all round incredible people). This guy I had to hate though because he wasn't going to tell us anything we wanted to hear. Jeannie had actually hoped to be seeing a female "breast specialist".  So there are now all kinds of preconceived strikes against him and though neither of us said it I'm thinking to myself that we'll be finding another "breast specialist" asap. A woman. Who can make this all better and relate to my wife and what she's going through. Not some cold hearted arrogant MAN.

So Mark Henry Cripe comes into the room and starts talking with us and doing an examination and reviewing the imaging that had been done to date. He's being compassionate and friendly and thorough. He offers to do the biopsy right now on the spot or offers to let Jeannie wait until the one scheduled for Friday, what ever she wants. He asks if I am to be present or would want to leave for the procedure, saying some guys get freaked out by the whole thing. Jeannie says she wants me there. I point out that while I despise needles (can't even look when they draw blood for a routine blood draw) on this particular occasion I won't feel a thing. So he gets his samples, tells her to ice the area that ice will be her best friend and leaves us with a couple of staff members who will schedule another appointment and some additional tests.

In the car driving home from the appointment we both admit to liking the guy. A lot. The audacity of the man. He's very likeable. Oh and the pain she'd been warned about by the other office. She says they really overstated it. And me? Never felt a thing.