You just can’t make this stuff up.
I am scheduled to have a lumpectomy next week, on Election Day. I have undergone many surgeries since 1980. Hysterectomy, arthroscopy, osteotomy, capsulotomy, arthroplasty, capsulorrhaphy and synovectomy are just a few of the fluffy procedures I’ve had. None would be notable if they had occurred on Election Day 2016. and any other surgical procedure on Election Day 2016 would be rather unremarkable.
But not mine this time. When scheduled for a lumpectomy on Election Day 2016, you just can’t make this stuff up. And so, with great fanfare, I announce that I will be having a trumpectomy next week.
With a diagnosis of breast cancer, it’s not exactly a barrel of monkeys. But after the nurse called and I realized the date, I could not stop laughing. How many other surgical procedures would work with this happenstance? What are the chances? I can’t think of one that would rhyme with Clinton. Even if I could, I would not sign up. Nor can I think of one that would have rhymed with Sanders. Obama? Bush? Romney? Gore? McCain? I hope there are no rhyming procedures out there that come my way in the future.
And doctors need not respond.
No, I am scheduled for a trumpectomy on Election Day 2016. And I didn’t even get to vote for it.
It’s hard not to run with the connections, once pushed into this campaign surgical corner. I have triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma and nothing could be more relevant descriptors of this campaign morass than triple negative and invasive. And nobody should have to deal with breast cancer AND this election at the same time. Cruel and unusual punishment comes to mind.
Unfortunately, this surgical confluence with Election Day means it’s going to be an election I will never forget. And, next to having a tumor cut out of your breast, followed by months of chemo and radiation, it’s hard to think of anything worse.
But, given my patriotic and cancerous fusion, I needed some levity. So, I am having a trumpectomy on Election Day 2016, she said with a smile.