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I met with the surgeon today. He's not just the surgeon. He is a terrific human being. He is a professor. He heads the department at Stanford. You can smell the respect in the waiting room, in the hallways and in the examining room. Sharon and I went together. We met an associate first who described the surgery that I would need. Then Dr. Whyte came in. He was matter of fact. He inspired confidence. This cancer, he said, is dangerous, but, because of my age and the apparent early detection, we should have a good outcome. He suggests we set up a date for surgery. He doesn't think I will need radiation and chemotherapy before the operation. He predicts 5-6 weeks of surgery and recovery time. While we are getting the date arranged, he wants me to rule out the suspicious pelvic area noticed on the CT PET scan. He agrees that it unlikely to be a problem, but he wants to make sure. He also wants me to do an ultrasound endoscopy to see how deep the cancer has grown into the wall of the esophagus. We agree to everything and feel better than we felt since the cancer was first discovered.
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