to-day it was incredibly busy at work. i helped so many people, and it was beautiful....
i felt very useful.
i'm still tired from the procedure. my right arm is tingly sometimes. i have to stretch it with my other hand across my body sometimes, to get it to stop. i'm just going to have to look up exercises myself, to strengthen that arm.
i'm just going to have to move around more.
lately, i've been cocooning in my room a lot. partially because it's so cold.... and partially because of my achy arm. also, i'm getting the cold everyone else is getting. no, i'm not. yes, i am. (trying to psyche myself out of it.)
i don't feel as depressed as i was before. yes, i still have low times. also, i feel like i'm about to have my period, but i never do, which leaves me hanging in a bad way.
wtf, body?
i almost want to do something special this st patrick's day..... (it was march 17 of last year that the chemo started.) i don't know what. it's on a tuesday, which is usually bagel day. maybe i'll go out for breakfast instead.
there are days i can't believe what's happened to me. then there are days i feel every ache and pain. sometimes, someone will come in with musky perfume that will make me think of the smell of the chemo drugs.
i should revisit the chemo area.....and take a picture. i was here.
i never want to stop learning, growing, helping, believing.....
hoping
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Monday, February 2, 2015
pulling out hoses
so, i went in to get the drain taken out to-day.
i came out of work....and pampered myself. i ate the rest of my sandwich. i drank water. i took tylenol, and the afternoon vitamins. i went to the salvation army, and looked through their store. (i ended up getting two comfortable pairs of shoes for work. much needed. oh, and an overnight bag. not so much needed :) )
then i leisurely drove to the surgeon's office.
i was early, so i dawdled a little bit in the parking lot. i walked in, and immediately stepped into a full elevator. three blonde family members, a frail man with a cane, and a "Lord Jesus" woman were inside. "don't worry, you are standing next to an anointed angel and daughter of God, you'll get better.... and you'll be healed" she said to the frail man. he got out at the second floor, saying "if it only were that easy."
she got out at the third floor, singing and humming to herself.
interesting.
i got out at the fourth floor, and went to the restroom. i wanted to drain the pump for the last time, and take care of myself. i pulled up my shirt, and looked at the pump.
the hose had separated from the bulb. wonderful.
i took off my coat, and outer shirt. luckily, i hadn't leaked much. (much.) i reassembled the contraption, and stuck it back inside my clothing. afterwards, i washed my hands, and used the excess water to try to plaster down my crew cut before leaving the restroom.
sigh.
i went to the waiting room, and signed in. i sat in the same comfy couch that my daughter and i had been in before, and pulled out two books to read.
where was my daughter? well..... last night, i asked "you remember that you're going with me to the doctor's to-morrow, right?" she gave me a look that would kill a man in three steps. i immediately said "that's all right... it's an embarrassing visit (which it was) you don't have to go." and she silently stormed out.
she asked, three hours later, when i was coming back to pick her up so she could be ready. i told her really, she didn't need to do so. later she texted me, and said i could use her car. i did not.
i don't mind that she gets fiery like this. hell, i did the same thing when i was young, and out of control. i try very hard to not feel hurt.... but i'm tearing up at explaining this. i could have given up, and let her go with me.. but, to tell you true, i was so hurt by the action that i didn't want any bad blood to continue between us.
it may not be the right answer.... but it felt like the right thing to do.
i read a doonesbury book on war rehabilitation. it was a quick read, and reminded me of the times when i would buy the single chapters of trudeau's books, like when b.d. and phred became friends. (i should revisit the whole series again. i really liked it.)
it seemed like everyone there was either dizzy, walking very slowly, or falling asleep on the couch. it troubled me that i was one of those people. i should have taken time off for this procedure, and would have if i was guided to. (instead, when i asked when i should go back to work, i got told "whenever you want.")
my appointment was at three o'clock. i ended up being called in at 3:15. (no big deal.)
to-day was the first day i had to tell a nurse that she would have to take my blood pressure on my left side. (i mourn that a little now.... man, i'm a teary mess right now. gah!) the instrument read a little higher than usual because she was taking it through layers of clothing, and she had my arm in a weird position, but it still was excellent, so it wasn't a problem.
then i was taken to an examination room. i was asked why i was here to-day. i told her about the drain, and she looked at my file, shaking her head. then she read enough to say "oh!" and left the room.
she came back, and put a pillow on the examination table. she asked me to put on the pink paper gown with the opening in the front, and then cover myself with the paper blanket.
she then went to the trouble of pulling down the shades to the window. "even though i know there's a film on the window, it sure looks like they can see in here." i giggled, and nodded. nice lady.
i put on the gown, held the paper blanket in front of me, and looked in the mirror. i had enough time to have a selfie session (as we do when we think we look good in pink) before the doctor came in.
"so, they did not find any lymphoma."
"yes. isn't it great?"
"well, it's unusual."
deadpan.
there was a diagram of a breast on the wall. i asked him to show me what he took out.... it looks like he just took out some of the top of the underarm. he said that there were many swollen nodes... he just took out the hard ones. i didn't ask how many that was, but it seemed great that he left some.
i guess.
i went to lie down on the table. he gently prevented me from doing so.
he looked at page one of my drain table. (i was supposed to record every day how much liquid i took out of my drain.)
"looks like we won't be take out the drain to-day."
he was looking at page one, where the measurements were at 20 ml a day.
"there are two pages."i said gently.
he turned to the second page, where the liquid measurements went down to 5 ml a day.
"looks like we will be taking out the drain to-day." he said, without any humour or emphasis.
yeah.
i went to lie down again, and he gently stopped me. he said to come in if i felt swollen, and they would go in and draw out more liquid. then he said he wanted to see me again in a month.
and with that he exited.
thanks?
the nurse walked towards me. then she stepped back, and said she needed to talk to the doctor. then she left, and another nurse came in.
i was beginning to feel very unpopular. no worries. nurse number three was cool.
she started to take off my bandage, and i jumped. she apologized warmly, and with my "it's ok" i explained that my dry skin liked to hang on to bandages. she totally understood.
as she undid my sutures, i said that i had watched how they did this on youtube, and the reactions were either "Lord, Jesus, take a pill before you go in!" or "that wuddn't too bad."
she laughed, and made ready to take out the tube.
"ready?"
yes.
at first, it seemed like i was unraveling. i panicked a bit, but started to feel better the more she pulled. i couldn't even feel the last few inches. (there was about 14 inches of tubing inside the underside of my arm, contouring my right breast.)
she took out the entire tube as i held up my underarm. i hadn't laid down on the table at all.... not even using the pillow laid out for me. (good thing, too. because of the sutures, it was hard for me to pull myself up with my right arm. i would have been turtle-bound to the table.)
i found the doctor as i walked in the hall. i asked, and he told me that the incision's stitches would dissolve on their own. (it's actually a good incision... i didn't even feel like it would bust open once.)
i have been told i could shower, or whatever i wanted.... there was going to be a hole there for a bit, but it would scab over soon. i bought some antibacterial waterproof bandages to cover the wound.....
and now i wait a month to see the surgeon. i wait until april to see the radiologist, and the oncologist.
i wait for my life to begin soon, too. first, i need to heal. and rest. and cry. and mourn. and crawl into a ball, and say "why me?"
but i can't say "i want to die" anymore. i went through mammogram, and biopsy, bone marrow biopsy and ct scan, pet scan and chemo, radiation and lymph node removal. almost every deep procedure known to man. (that i know of.) a person going down this path logically does not have the reason to say "i want to die" anymore.......
no matter how much she cries.....
it's time to take back my life, and survive.
survive, and hope.... and perhaps dream again.
maybe.
i came out of work....and pampered myself. i ate the rest of my sandwich. i drank water. i took tylenol, and the afternoon vitamins. i went to the salvation army, and looked through their store. (i ended up getting two comfortable pairs of shoes for work. much needed. oh, and an overnight bag. not so much needed :) )
then i leisurely drove to the surgeon's office.
i was early, so i dawdled a little bit in the parking lot. i walked in, and immediately stepped into a full elevator. three blonde family members, a frail man with a cane, and a "Lord Jesus" woman were inside. "don't worry, you are standing next to an anointed angel and daughter of God, you'll get better.... and you'll be healed" she said to the frail man. he got out at the second floor, saying "if it only were that easy."
she got out at the third floor, singing and humming to herself.
interesting.
i got out at the fourth floor, and went to the restroom. i wanted to drain the pump for the last time, and take care of myself. i pulled up my shirt, and looked at the pump.
the hose had separated from the bulb. wonderful.
i took off my coat, and outer shirt. luckily, i hadn't leaked much. (much.) i reassembled the contraption, and stuck it back inside my clothing. afterwards, i washed my hands, and used the excess water to try to plaster down my crew cut before leaving the restroom.
sigh.
i went to the waiting room, and signed in. i sat in the same comfy couch that my daughter and i had been in before, and pulled out two books to read.
where was my daughter? well..... last night, i asked "you remember that you're going with me to the doctor's to-morrow, right?" she gave me a look that would kill a man in three steps. i immediately said "that's all right... it's an embarrassing visit (which it was) you don't have to go." and she silently stormed out.
she asked, three hours later, when i was coming back to pick her up so she could be ready. i told her really, she didn't need to do so. later she texted me, and said i could use her car. i did not.
i don't mind that she gets fiery like this. hell, i did the same thing when i was young, and out of control. i try very hard to not feel hurt.... but i'm tearing up at explaining this. i could have given up, and let her go with me.. but, to tell you true, i was so hurt by the action that i didn't want any bad blood to continue between us.
it may not be the right answer.... but it felt like the right thing to do.
i read a doonesbury book on war rehabilitation. it was a quick read, and reminded me of the times when i would buy the single chapters of trudeau's books, like when b.d. and phred became friends. (i should revisit the whole series again. i really liked it.)
it seemed like everyone there was either dizzy, walking very slowly, or falling asleep on the couch. it troubled me that i was one of those people. i should have taken time off for this procedure, and would have if i was guided to. (instead, when i asked when i should go back to work, i got told "whenever you want.")
my appointment was at three o'clock. i ended up being called in at 3:15. (no big deal.)
to-day was the first day i had to tell a nurse that she would have to take my blood pressure on my left side. (i mourn that a little now.... man, i'm a teary mess right now. gah!) the instrument read a little higher than usual because she was taking it through layers of clothing, and she had my arm in a weird position, but it still was excellent, so it wasn't a problem.
then i was taken to an examination room. i was asked why i was here to-day. i told her about the drain, and she looked at my file, shaking her head. then she read enough to say "oh!" and left the room.
she came back, and put a pillow on the examination table. she asked me to put on the pink paper gown with the opening in the front, and then cover myself with the paper blanket.
she then went to the trouble of pulling down the shades to the window. "even though i know there's a film on the window, it sure looks like they can see in here." i giggled, and nodded. nice lady.
i put on the gown, held the paper blanket in front of me, and looked in the mirror. i had enough time to have a selfie session (as we do when we think we look good in pink) before the doctor came in.
"so, they did not find any lymphoma."
"yes. isn't it great?"
"well, it's unusual."
deadpan.
there was a diagram of a breast on the wall. i asked him to show me what he took out.... it looks like he just took out some of the top of the underarm. he said that there were many swollen nodes... he just took out the hard ones. i didn't ask how many that was, but it seemed great that he left some.
i guess.
i went to lie down on the table. he gently prevented me from doing so.
he looked at page one of my drain table. (i was supposed to record every day how much liquid i took out of my drain.)
"looks like we won't be take out the drain to-day."
he was looking at page one, where the measurements were at 20 ml a day.
"there are two pages."i said gently.
he turned to the second page, where the liquid measurements went down to 5 ml a day.
"looks like we will be taking out the drain to-day." he said, without any humour or emphasis.
yeah.
i went to lie down again, and he gently stopped me. he said to come in if i felt swollen, and they would go in and draw out more liquid. then he said he wanted to see me again in a month.
and with that he exited.
thanks?
the nurse walked towards me. then she stepped back, and said she needed to talk to the doctor. then she left, and another nurse came in.
i was beginning to feel very unpopular. no worries. nurse number three was cool.
she started to take off my bandage, and i jumped. she apologized warmly, and with my "it's ok" i explained that my dry skin liked to hang on to bandages. she totally understood.
as she undid my sutures, i said that i had watched how they did this on youtube, and the reactions were either "Lord, Jesus, take a pill before you go in!" or "that wuddn't too bad."
she laughed, and made ready to take out the tube.
"ready?"
yes.
at first, it seemed like i was unraveling. i panicked a bit, but started to feel better the more she pulled. i couldn't even feel the last few inches. (there was about 14 inches of tubing inside the underside of my arm, contouring my right breast.)
she took out the entire tube as i held up my underarm. i hadn't laid down on the table at all.... not even using the pillow laid out for me. (good thing, too. because of the sutures, it was hard for me to pull myself up with my right arm. i would have been turtle-bound to the table.)
i found the doctor as i walked in the hall. i asked, and he told me that the incision's stitches would dissolve on their own. (it's actually a good incision... i didn't even feel like it would bust open once.)
i have been told i could shower, or whatever i wanted.... there was going to be a hole there for a bit, but it would scab over soon. i bought some antibacterial waterproof bandages to cover the wound.....
and now i wait a month to see the surgeon. i wait until april to see the radiologist, and the oncologist.
i wait for my life to begin soon, too. first, i need to heal. and rest. and cry. and mourn. and crawl into a ball, and say "why me?"
but i can't say "i want to die" anymore. i went through mammogram, and biopsy, bone marrow biopsy and ct scan, pet scan and chemo, radiation and lymph node removal. almost every deep procedure known to man. (that i know of.) a person going down this path logically does not have the reason to say "i want to die" anymore.......
no matter how much she cries.....
it's time to take back my life, and survive.
survive, and hope.... and perhaps dream again.
maybe.
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