Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Checking in

Over the last few days I had a brief hospital stay for iv antibiotics.
I have now officially lost count of the number of people who have seen
my boobs, what day of the week it is, and even the month, for that

Sunday morning I woke up early, read a little, and then my incision
decided to open and let out high volumes of what via my vast medical
expertise i will simply call gunk. Nnnnnnot a good thing. The
Budweiser crown-shaped bruise had broken up, and there was an
infection, so I thought I was bleeding heavily and the end result was
two EMTs walking me out to an ambulance stretcher on a freezing
morning, kids crying, and the beginning of reciting my name and
birthdate 12,000 times.

(It was helpful to call my surgeon's service because they called ahead
to the ER and the admission process went very smoothly. I hope you
never need that handy hint)

I was fairly calm during the drama part. Still there was one point
after the ER surgeon had treated me (thanks for not waiting for the
morphine to kick in, you savage bastard) Mr. C held my hand while I
sobbed because I want to be normal again; I want to go to church that
morning and sing, and go to work this week and see my fish, and not
visit doctors and play What Next ?

I am grateful to the visiting nurses who will come twice a day for a
while to tend to this, so that I don't have to stay in the hospital.
Even if the first visit did take almost 3 hours. My friends seriously
need to build them a workflow app for all the initial paperwork.

I am grateful to my friends who came to see me and sit on my bed and
hold my hand and remind me that they love me, bad hairdo and all.

I am grateful that I slept well in my own bed last night, showered,
and ate nice food on my couch today.

And I am grateful for naps. I get plenty of 'em.

1 comment:

Trish said...

welcome to the world of cancer...hopefully these visits will be few and far between.

My oncologist has seen me totally naked more than I care to count---he's looking for melanoma, he needs to look everywhere, like between toes and even under my boobs.

Suggestion---make a card with your name, DOB, current Dx and current meds on it---so you can HAND it to the EMTs and ER folks. Some of the questions they repeat are designed to check your cognitive function. Some of are just for confirmation.

Don't expect the home "health" folks to be efficient on an hourly pay scale.

And rest is a good thing. It'll help you cope.

Final suggestion---do something NOT related to your boobies once in a while. It's hard when you're down and in treatment. But do it. Whether it is a drive down the coast, or thru a nice neighborhood you like or a park or to a favorite food place---go. Remember that your life is NOT cancer, but a part of it is cancer related. You are a lot of things---and going to beat this thing.

lotsa hugz from California.