Our first visit to Mom's oncologist was actually fairly uneventful. The doctor examined Mom and then the three of us sat down with her (my mother, my sister and I were an almost inseparable trio those first few weeks) as she went over what the ultrasound had showed and what the next steps would be.
First on the schedule was surgery. Mom needed a full hysterectomy and depending on what they found while they were in there, she would probably have some, if not most, of her omentum removed. Once the tumor was removed, they would do the pathology on it and Stage Mom. Stage is an actual verb in this case.
We really liked Mom's doctor, from the moment we met her. She was very good at communicating with us, answering every one of our questions and never once making us feel like she had to get to another patient. Mom felt very comfortable and safe with her doctor. It was a very good thing at the time, it became a bit tricky later when having to travel to Swedish in Seattle while living near Arlington but that comes later.
For this first appointment, after we had exhausted all of our questions, the doctor's assistant called the hospital to see when Mom's surgery could be scheduled. Even she was surprised to find out they had an OR available for that Wednesday. This was Monday. Instead of having to wait a couple of weeks, as expected, Mom had to wait two days. This was after Mom's doctor was able to get Mom in with the oncologist only two days after her ultrasound - something that also normally took two weeks.
We were so very encouraged by how fast all of this was moving, how sure folks seemed to be that we had caught this early and while Mom was in for a bumpy ride, it would all be behind her by about March of the next year, then it would just be the every 6 months check-ups, praying to stay NED (no evidence of disease) for five years so she could be declared cured. It all looked so positive on those beautiful October mornings...