I haven't the foggiest idea.
I suspect there will be at least a biopsy involved, though perhaps more. The nice lady from the office who confirmed my appointment today reminded me not to eat or drink anything after midnight, just in case I wanted to be put to sleep for the procedure.
Ve haff vays off makingk you zleeeeep.
Which all makes me think that either the good doc is going to take this damned thing *out*, which would be more than okay with me, or that they offer sedated biopsies to people who are less afraid of not breathing than they are of needles.
Call me a nut, call me a crazy dreamer, call me one of those quirky do-it-yourselfers, but I really prefer to maintain my own airway.
So. After the biopsy/eviction, I suspect there will be a wait for pathology reports. The best-case scenario is that the good doctor will hit Cap'n Lumpy with his special patented Cancer Detecto-X Ma-cheen and say, "Oh, hell, why do those people at that dentist's office keep wasting my time?" and send me cheerfully (and sedatedly) on my way after excising a ginormously impacted salivary duct. The worst-case scenario is one I have firmly banished from my brain. The reality will probably be a week's wait or more. Again.
Either way, I'll post something as soon as I can sit up long enough to type.
Everything else here is going swimmingly. All I have to do in the morning is change the sheets (a long-time habit of mine: if I know I'm getting sick, or if I have to do something that involves more than a blood draw, I like to have clean sheets) and refill Max's water bowls. I have a fridge full of soft, bland food that doesn't take a lot of effort to swallow, and a line of people willing to do everything from clean the cat box to gas up my car if necessary. I have, speaking of the cats, food and litter galore for them and enough to last Max a week, plus enough coffee to get through. So I'm as prepared as I'm going to get.
Say your prayers, children. We'll see what happens.