Well, it won't be exactly the same. I am having a "re-excision " surgery where more breast tissue will be taken out. I had clean margins the first time, but the margins were too slim, leaving me with a higher risk of recurrence. This time, I told the surgeon to take as much as he wanted and I don't care what it looks like!

I know that he probably hears this a lot from women. I read that a common response upon first being diagnosed with breast cancer is, "Just cut it off!" And I was no exception.

The thing is, when it gets down to it and you are faced with the actual surgery, mastectomy is pretty darn scary. I think it's an easier decision if you have a large tumor or if the cancer has already spread. You're willing to do whatever.

It's harder when you're diagnosed with early stage breast cancer (tiny tumor) and your lymph nodes are clear. As the oncologist said to me, a mastectomy would be "overkill." I think he's right. If I'm ever faced again with breast cancer (God forbid), it would be a necessity.

I don't know why I got on that tangent, but I guess I'm talking out loud to comfort myself in the decision I made for a lumpectomy. Now, this surgery will also be different because I'm having the porta-cath placed on my left side (upper chest area).

So I really have no idea what to expect. I hope it's not too painful, but I'm going to let them load me up with pain pills to take home just in case.

I've been having dreams about chemo and losing my hair. The other night I had this weird dream that I was acting in a play and that some young woman who was supposed to be a make-up artist/hairdresser, walked up to me and did something to the back of my hair.

I said, "Hey, what did you do?" And I looked in a mirror and she had cut a huge hunk of my hair just in the center at the back of my head, up to my neck. And I was just livid with her for not asking for permission or anything--just whacking off my hair!

And I had this quick thought in my dream, "Well, it doesn't really matter because you're going to lose it in a couple of weeks anyway with chemo."

But I went on a rampage excoriating her for what she had done. People around me looked at me like I was way overreacting. It didn't matter; I just charged out of the room, yelling that I was leaving and not coming back.

Good grief, that dream seemed pretty transparent. So it would be fair to say that I'm pretty freaked out about the whole thing. It all just seems so surreal. Never in a million years did I think I'd be facing this.

It really helps for me to talk to other women who have been through this. Yesterday, my niece was married during a small ceremony at her home and she had a big wedding reception at a community hall.

While we were enjoying the music and food, my sister-in-law (my hubby's sister) called me off to the side and told me that her neighbor, Pat, was there. Pat went through all of this seven years ago. She asked if I would be interested in talking to Pat and, of course, I said yes.

A few minutes later, a petite, well-dressed blonde sat down next to me and we began our conversation. Pat is about 47 years old and was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer when she was 40. She went through the lumpectomy, chemo, and radiation and . . . I'm thrilled to say that today she looks great!

We exchanged emails so that Pat could email me with the name of the woman who helped her with a wig. She said she bought a synthetic wig because the human hair wigs were so expensive.

She warned me that you've got to be careful with a synthetic wig, though. She laughed when she recalled taking something out of a hot oven and melting her bangs when she stuck her head in too far! :!)

At the end of our conversation, Pat gave me a hug and I thought about how breast cancer can bring two women so close in just a matter of minutes. It's as if we're sharing the same life boat.

We discussed her treatment and the side effects she experienced. She reassured me over and over that I would get through this just fine. Music to my ears! These are the women who inspire me.

Pat was actually diagnosed on September 11, 2001, believe it or not. Wow, I can only imagine the emotions going on that day for her. She told me that she was going through chemo in October and that when her hair started to fall out, she had her husband shave it off.

Then, with a chuckle, she said that I should get a jack-o-lantern like she did and place my hair on it. She said they tried to make their jack-o-lantern look like Osama Bin Laden and made a beard with her hair! Gallows humor, she said. I can relate. You've got to have a sense of humor about this stuff.

I've noticed that I will make jokes about these things, but I don't like it when other people make them (mostly my husband). For some reason, it just makes me feel . . . hmmm . . . what is it? Trivialized? Something tells me I need to get over it because the people close to me need to let off some of the mental pressure as much as I do.