What a week

It seems like it was over a month ago since I last blogged, but it's been a mere week. And what a week it was. My sister, Cheryle, arrived Tuesday, which was my birthday. Seriously, it was one of the best birthdays ever. I worked four hours to get things wrapped up, and when I got home I had two beautiful bouquets of flowers, tons of cards, messages on Facebook, presents - it was almost overwhelming, and I thought, my God, do they all think I'm going to die tomorrow? Just kidding. I guess I really am blessed to have so many people in my life who really do care. Cheryle and I had an elegant dinner at El Gaucho, and she paid for my dinner, which I wasn't planning, but she insisted. So that was very nice.
Wednesday noon we were off to the hospital. I had not eaten of course, and no liquids after 9:30 a.m., so you get pretty grouchy by the time you get into the OR. We waited and waited. Finally at 4 p.m. Dr. Beatty shows up....his surgery before me was complicated. I was supposed to be in the OR by 1:30. So I just wanted to be knocked out and get the show on the road.
So, along with Dr. Beatty was this nice-looking young lady in scrubs. She was his resident - and I swear to God, looked about maybe 19. I just sort of blurted out, "are you old enough to be a doctor!" My God, we're talking Doogie Houser here! She is a doll, Dr. Tierney, and I learned later she is 26. I said to her, you must be very smart, and she said, "either that or very stupid!" So, I really dig her now, too. The anesthesiologist came next - Dr. Higgins. Cute little bugger. Once we got in the OR (I walked in and pretty much plopped myself up on the table - I'm skilled now), Dr. Higgins gave me the first little dose to make you relax, which is when I start talking about whatever is on my mind. I remember telling Dr. Higgins he was very cute, and the nurses giggling that "the drugs were talking," then I asked if he was single.
The next thing I know, I'm in recovery, unable to open my eyes, but begging for ice chips. I guess Dr. Higgins decided it was time to shut me up. I never did find out if he was single! Sigh.
I got into my hospital room about 7:45 p.m. Cheryle told me that Dr. Beatty said my surgery was "textbook," no complications. I still don't know what pathology will say. I will probably find out tomorrow when I go in for my post-op follow up.
The evening in the hospital was restless. I got so damn hot! So, I buzzed for the nurse and told her I was boiling hot - well, no wonder, the heat was up to 80 in my room! So, she turned it down, and I woke up freezing a few hours later. Plus they came in at 1 a.m. to take my vitals and drain me. Hospitals really sorta suck, but they did have blueberry pancakes on the menu, which oddly enough I was craving, so I had blueberry pancakes and fruit for breakfast which made me very happy.
Dr. Tierney (the Doog) came in to check on me and the wound; that's when I pried her age out of her. Once they trained me on the drain I was a free woman.
The drain is gross. It's a tube that goes directly into my chest and this bloody fluid drains into a device that looks like a hand grenade. Seriously. I've got it down now, but yesterday there was a leak somewhere and we couldn't figure it out, so we called Dr. Beatty's answering service and the Doog called back. She thought there might be a clot near the insertion point, and she said to take off part of the dressing to check it out. She was right. So, we "stripped" it from there all the way to the grenade, and I'm draining fine now. I have to write down how much fluid comes out. Once it's down to less that 30 ml a day, the drain can come out. But we're looking at 10 days or so. It's a pain in the ass, because there's a lump where it rests in a pocket inside my camisole, so dressing myself is a challenge. But once this sucker is out, I can get a real prosthetic bra, and look pretty normal again.
I'm feeling pretty good though, but I sleep a lot. Last night Cheryle and I did the "Market Ghost Tour" at Pike Place Market. There is a lot of paranormal activity there, and I had these two tickets and thought that would be fun during Halloween month. It was a blast. Our tour guide was a girl with the macabre makeup on and what not. Her name was Kook! So we heard all the stories, many of which are truly fascinating, but never saw a ghost. Bummer. After that we had dinner at the Steelhead Diner at the market. We were home from our big date by 9, and I was tired. But I got out! We've watched a couple of good movies, too.
Today the big outing was Home Depot, Bakery Nouveau, a favorite little shop in West Seattle, and the grocery store for a few more items. I'm tired but I'm so glad Cheryle is here, so I'm not dealing with this on my own. She is going with me to see Dr. Beatty tomorrow. Tuesday I think she'll head over to Shelton (other side of Puget Sound) to visit her brother and sister-in-law and I'll attempt to go back to work.
On the insurance front, I need to call the attorney tomorrow and see where we're at. I did get a bill from Swedish for $138,351 in the mail Saturday, and also 28 pages of shit from my insurer. Cheryle crossed checked all the dates to my appointment book, and indeed they are trying to stick me with all of the chemo. They won't win.
I'm still going to Hawaii in December, but my son, Taylor, who turned 21 this week(!), cannot go now because of an exam he has to take the day we were scheduled to leave. It's a state test for his EMT stuff, and he can't change it. It's too complicated to change everything now because of Christmas blackout dates and his school schedule, so I'm taking Colleen instead. We've traveled together many times, and do just great together. But I will desperately need the break, then start radiation when I get back.
Meantime, I have to heal and get stronger. I had quite the whack to my body - literally!