I can't believe surgery was a week ago. This was the biggest psychological milestone thus far, and in many ways it felt like the last big hurdle to overcome. With that said, I'm finding that the relief of having the surgery over with is now overshadowed by the realization that there's still so much more to go in this terrible journey.
Before I get ahead of myself, the surgery itself was fine. It is what it is. Basically, my body is essentially a before and after of puberty. Half of my chest is as flat as a 9 year-old, the other half isn't. If you're not into medical stuff, you can go ahead to the next paragraph, but if you're interested in gory medical details, keep reading. I have a drain coming out of the side of me and at the end is a "grenade" that collects fluid. I get to pour it out and measure it and note the color twice a day--once in the morning and once at night. And I push fluid through the tubing a few times a day so it doesn't get backed up. It's a good thing I don't get grossed out by this stuff. I have a special camisole that has a pouch for my grenade. I get nervous when I have to take it out of the pouch to empty it--I don't want to know what it would feel like to drop the grenade and have it rip out of me. Ouch.
Here's one thing that staying in a hospital was a good reminder of: take care of yourself. As many of you know, I hate hospitals. They're full of disease and sick people (do a search on MRSA and you'll see what I'm talking about). Besides the fact that I have this pesky cancer, I'm a pretty healthy person. My roommate in the hospital was a woman who couldn't have been more than 60 years old. (As an aside, she didn't have cancer. I wasn't sure if the hospital tried to match people with similar conditions. Apparently the answer is no.) My roomie was obese, had sleep apnea and she was in the hospital because she had an infection in one of the bones in her foot (I don't know how this is possible). She was probably going to rehab after her discharge rather than going home. She was a mess and she wasn't very old. Lesson learned: Take care of yourself! Life is too precious and short to be in the hospital and/or managing a preventable chronic condition at such a young age (I realize there are chronic conditions out there that can vastly affect your life that just happen. I'm not talking to you folks, you do what you need to do). But to everybody else--move your butts! Don't eat too much crap! Don't smoke! Okay, getting off my soapbox now...
As usual, I've digressed. As I said in the beginning, while I'm relieved surgery is over, it's overwhelming and discouraging how much further I have to go. Since I like running and sports metaphors in general, comparing cancer treatment to a marathon doesn't do it justice, unless it's one of those 100 mile ultra marathons in say, Death Valley. I think it's more relatable to a triathlon--and not the sprint distance, but the Ultra distance (like Ironman). And then when you're done with that, you need to do an Eco-Challenge.
This surgery has loomed over me for so long, I didn't really think past it. Honestly, I couldn't. I had to focus on just one milestone at a time. But now that I'm past what felt like such a huge hurdle and I look toward finishing treatment, it's very discouraging how far I still have to go. In the meantime, my sights are set on my new hobby: Subversive Cross Stitch. Some of you know how I took up knitting when I was pregnant with Addie with the plan to knit a hat that was similar to an adorable hat that my sister-in-law had knitted for Belle when she was born. Well....Addie's almost 18 months old and the hat's not finished. I haven't actually ordered a kit yet, but I do like to look at them. :)
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