Nov. 29, 2013
We have no idea what the future holds.
I have no surgeon, and I still don’t know what the hell Helga is.
My doctors help me look for a thoracic surgeon in a tertiary center who will be able to nail my case on the head.
We look at Emory, John Hopkins, Yale, Sloan Kettering, M.D. Anderson and every other hospital under the sun.
After hours and hours of searching, one man stands out like a swore thumb. His name is Dr. Cerfolio and he’s just the man I need.
We email him, explaining every single detail of my case.
We leave the doctor with hopes that Cerfolio will reply, but we really don’t expect anything much because it’s the day after Thanksgiving – everyone’s at home with their families.
“THANK YOU, JESUS.”
Mom runs into the kitchen crying. Some time soon, I expect her to kneel on the floor, look up at the sky, and shout crazy things. Haha, I’m kidding. She was just extremely happy and I understand why.
Dr. Cerfolio replied to our email asking for my documents and scans.
We’re in, baby.
I close my eyes and I thank God because he has a plan. He always does. Now, I’ll be in better care.
…To Alabama we go.