Nothing as Planned

Nothing as Planned

What I'm learning about being sick is that nothing goes as planned. Perhaps I should plan on everything going wrong and then I might be pleasantly surprised by the accuracy of my predictions. Ugh.

During surgery, the scalpel slipped and so I have an extra scar from those stitches. It's great, because I really like to look like a patchwork quilt. I'm thinking that I might use that as my halloween costume for this year.

After surgery, I nearly went crazy from itching, only to find out that while narcotics are great for pain management, you might rip off your skin from uncontrollable itch.

When we were getting ready to leave the hospital, we got the call that another surgery would be needed. The day we went in for that surgery, we missed the window and had to start all over the next day.

All of my skin is peeling off, like I've been terribly sunburned. Of course, I haven't. Also, (of course) I'm not allowed to use any lotion close to any of the incisions. This isn't really a problem, because I hardly have any incisions. I mean, besides the four on my front, the two holes from the drains on my sides and the six to seven inch scars on either side of my back, I'm pretty much incision-free.

A couple of weeks ago, some of my cancerous tissue took a little trip to a lab in California. (I didn't get to accompany it.) This location is the only place that does breast cancer oncotyping, a test that helps determine the benefits of chemotherapy and the likelyhood for recurrence. We got a call alerting us to the fact that the $3,975 test may not be covered by insurance. Super.

Yesterday, I called California to check in on my vacationing cells. They told me that the test was complete and that a report had been sent to my doctor. They lied, though. Naturally. What the customer service rep didn't know is that the report on my surgeon's desk says that there wasn't enough tissue to test and could we please send some more. Well, sure we could! Thanks for being on the ball and wasting two weeks. It's not like knowing the stage of my cancer and whether or not all my hair will be falling our are important to me. By all means, take your time.

I was really excited to get my drains out, so that I could roll over. I'm a side sleeper and I've been sleeping on my back for two weeks. But, when I got settled in for a cozy nap, I experienced a searing hot pain in my chest. I called the surgeon, thinking that I must have torn something and that I would surely soon be suffering from internal hemorrhaging. They told me not to worry. The pressure of the implant on the stitched muscle tissue is just too much for right now. So, I'm back to my back ... just like an infant. No one has offered me a pacifier, though, I observe.

When I went to the plastic surgeon on Monday, he told me that I'll be in sports bras for another month and that I might want to buy some more. (I've been using the hospital issued bras, which are not particularly awesome. Plus, one of them is stained with iodine.) But, did you know that front closure sports bras are a very hot commodity? Well, either that or no one likes them. I'm not sure, but the fact remains that it is nearly impossible to find any. My good friend, Jamie, took me shopping yesterday in search of this personal item which the doctor said "you should be able to find at any store like K-mart or Wallmart." Wrong. Also not at Target or Kohl's. Well, if you wear a size 42 you can find them. But you better not be too picky, because there is only one style and color from which to choose. We ended up buying some expensive ones at a sporting goods store. We also ended up getting me stuck in one of the bras, but that's another story.

All of this shopping, while a fun diversion, was a lot of effort for me. At the last store, I noticed a bulge in my back. Guess what that is? A build up of fluid! So, I have the drains out, but there is still too much fluid for my body to re-absorb. I was told that this might happen. Actually, I was told that it was probably not going to happen ... but you know, nothing goes as planned. So, I think that I'll have a doctor drain it with a syringe and needle. I'm sure that it will be pleasant. I'm probably going to eat truffles during the procedure.

So, that's pretty much it. I'm just sitting here watching t.v. and reading books. Scott and I are having lovely, quiet dinners together and watching all sorts of movies. I get a nap every day, lots of delicious treats and rarely bother to get dressed.

This would be a really nice vacation, if it wasn't for pesky cancer.

Way to ruin everything, cancer. I'll get you for this!