It was a club I didn't want to belong to but had been forced to join. We sat in the waiting room, half of us distinguished by the one thing the others didn't have; a large safety pin affixed to our shirt or blouse, holding our surgical drain in place. It was the "haves" and the "have-nots" and I was not pleased to be on what I considered to be the wrong side of this equation. It had started with a mammogram that led to an ultrasound and on to a biopsy. This was the third doctor in a week and … [Read more...]