Protected: Gut Feeling
Yes, I know that’s it’s raining but I had a lovely walk, nonetheless. First, I am loving my new rain pants! I bought them a couple of weeks before the weather changed so that I could keep up my daily walk habit. So far, so good. I was warm and dry under my rain gear and after I’d walked for awhile, it was even nice to get some light drizzle on my face. It wasn’t that cold out and there was only a little wind. The flowers are starting to look a little bit happier after going with out water for so many weeks. The leaves are starting to get really pretty. As I was walking along, I remembered that I used to like to walk in light rain. I remember that an old college boyfriend once remarked that I stood up straight instead of hunching over when I walked in the rain. He liked that. (It was about the only thing, though. We were not very compatible. He criticized me for “not arguing enough.” Here, I’ll pause for a bit while you all laugh your asses off about that one…. In grad school, a class mate, Penny who was from Appalachian West Virginia and a real coal miner’s daughter awesomely twanged, “Elizabeth would argue with a post.” Fortunately, I have mellowed with age. Oh wait, now my husband is laughing his ass off.)
Back to my lovely morning. As I was walking, I noticed that for the last couple of weeks, I have had a much welcome decrease in mind chatter. I have had a near constant hyperactive chatter going on in my head since my cancer diagnosis unless I am absorbed in some other activity. Although I’ve had my times of churning anxiety, it is mostly just a busy mind chatter, just thinking about how I am doing, what needs to be done, etc. Sometimes the chatter is helpful because it helps me process and plan but at other times, it is like listening to a kid who is really into some movie that I’ve never seen describe the entire thing, scene by scene. In other words, relentless and exhausting.
I notice that this internal chatter has gotten slower, less frequent, are more contemplative. I think my daily walks and meditation are helping quite a bit. And perhaps it will help me stop arguing with posts. They are very frustrating. Posts can stonewall like no one’s business.
John returns from Hungary tomorrow afternoon. Yay! He is traveling with co-workers from Disney. His friend, TJ has posted pictures on Facebook during the week. All of the close ups of John are the same. This cracks me up. But maybe I just miss my husband. You be the judge, are these pictures crack-up-able?
John and his co-worker who looks like a happy Gordon Ramsey.
John and the Real Girl
And by the way, my reference to the film, “Lars and the Real Girl” got me thinking about Ryan Gosling. Did you know that he used to be a Disney Mouseketeer? Now I want to see him in a musical.
Protected: Stable
It’s looking a little better, not worse. As suggested by Dr. Welk, I am taking a digital picture each day. I’m using my phone. John gave me a scary thought about my accidentally posting the pictures on Facebook. Nooooooooo!
Also, the harsh critic who prompted my post about my punctuation challenges was me. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. But I take Karen’s comment to heart as I do need to be more understanding of myself, not to mention the fact that I need to avoid sweating the small stuff. Thanks, Karen!
My right breast is kind of sad and deflated looking. In other words, it’s looking more of the way it’s supposed to so Mom, no freaking out today, either.
I took one of my mom’s suggestions and cut the right cup out of an old bra, just leaving a small strip of fabric along the bottom to fashion a kind of “chest monocle,” to provide some support to the “good one.” It was a good experiment if only for the laugh I got out of thinking up the name, “chest monocle.”
I’m still a little variable in the mood department but rallying.
Yesterday, I put on a dress and thought, “Hey, I look pretty good.” I looked symmetrical, for one and it’s been awhile since I could say that. I did not connect the dots of facts in my brain that would have told me, “Hey, you’re not supposed to be symmetrical. One of your boobs is supposed to be smaller than the other. Don’t you remember complaining about that in your blog?”
Fortunately, I have a surgeon who noticed today when I was in for my post-op appointment. I was swollen with fluid, a combination of blood and serous fluid. The fluid was under my skin, surrounding the tissue expander that was inserted last week. I learned that this is a concern as is the ischemic tissue (skin that isn’t getting enough blood flow). As you may recall, I had this issue with the mastectomy, but this was much less than before and hey, they kept telling me how good everything looked after the mastectomy. Apparently, this was not supposed to happen again with the last surgery. In fact, Dr. Welk uttered the words I so did not want to hear, “I’ve never seen this before.” My skin is not happy. My doctor is not happy. I am not happy.
This is not a life threatening situation but it does mean there’s a slim chance that I could lose a sizable portion of skin, need surgery to have it removed, and have to start the whole process over again with another tissue expander surgery. Dr. Welk says that it will probably be fine and I am scheduled to see him again on Tuesday of next week. When I talked to my friend, Jennie she offered to come to the appointment with me. I said, “Oh that’s okay, John will want to come.” Then she reminded me that John is going to be in Hungary next week. Good thing her brain is able to connect the dots for me and she is such a good friend to offer to go with me. She has some good experience helping out friends in medical settings, having helped at the birth of at least two babies. So I am relieved to not have to go alone.
To be honest, I was pretty sad and overwhelmed about this earlier today. I know in the larger scheme of things that things look good for me. But it’s been a long haul since May. I also need to lay off the cancer reading for awhile. I know it was part of my plan to do a lot of cancer reading to get in touch with my grief but I think I’ve had enough for now. It’s like in my practice when moms start feeling really guilty, I tell them, “You have the rest of your life as a parent to feel guilty. Don’t use it up all now. Save some for later.” This usually gets a big laugh of relief. So I’m going to save some grief for later.
Lastly, I am relieved to have figured out a solution to my professional attire challenge for next week. Dr. Welk doesn’t want me to put extra pressure on my tissue so I need to go around bra-less until at least Thursday afternoon. Unfortunately, it is not yet sweater season. Fortunately, I have a chemise that can be used as full slip, given to me by my friend, Cheryl that I can wear under my dresses. Phew! Visible googly eyed effect crisis averted!
Well Count Dracula may have wanted it, but I’m not sure about the phlebotomists at Swedish Medical Center. Actually, they do, but they are short-handed. I’m at my neighborhood clinic for a blood draw. My naturopath wants to check my vitamin D levels (very important Northwest people, and for more than breast cancer), my thyroid, and my vitamin B12 levels. My fabulous internist agreed to order the lab work so my insurance will pay for it, since my plan doesn’t cover naturopathy. (It does, however, cover acupuncture.)
The waiting room is full. There are just enough seats for the number of people in the room, all of whom are waiting for blood work. There are three seats empty, however. Three of the men are standing because how better to make time fly than to be on your feet for 45 minutes? I’ll stop being mean. Maybe they have bad backs or something. Or maybe they have compromised immune systems and don’t want to sit in the chairs so close to the other patients. Wait, one of the stand up guys hasn’t taken his heavy looking Boeing briefcase off of his shoulder. He is also hovering close to the sign in desks. Given that he is carrying excess weight and is brave enough to hover close to the potentially germy people at the sign up desk, I feel comfortable calling him, “Impatient” and judging him silently in my mind. Taking time to negatively judge a fellow human helps me pass approximately 50 seconds of wait time.
Hey, a lady just sat next to me and asked how long I’d been waiting. I respond, “About 15 minutes.” Then I try to ensnare engage her with my scintillating small talk. She responds, but only with politeness and no apparent interest. Foiled again, but that 90 seconds just seemed to fly by. Oh hey, an older lady takes a seat across the aisle and starts to talk to me. She seems to have real possibilities! She makes a comment about someone being so happy to have their name called. Then she makes a little sideways nod, smiles, and makes a small raspberry-like noise as if to say, “Can you believe this crazy world we live in? I, for one am determined to enjoy it.” After awhile, I realize that she is not consistently coherent, says the same phrase when each person goes to get their blood drawn. The head move and raspberry noise are repeated. In other words, instead of saying, “Can you believe this crazy world we live in”, she is saying, “I have a combination of vocal and motor tics.” While I’m digesting this, I do feel a little bit happy that her neurological issues give her a certain flair and noting her leopard print socks and colorful clothing, decide that despite the tics, her personality is coming through. Maybe she really is making a positive statement about life while simultaneously experiencing tics. This is what I choose to believe and the animal print clothing clinches the deal. My combined mental efforts as an amateur neurologist, fashion observer, and self-deluder took up at least 30 minutes. Goooooal!!
My name is called. I have a short conversation with a very pleasant phlebotomist with gnarly tattos. Noting that there is evidence of multiple recent needle marks in my arm he says, “Good times.” I tell him about my cancer. that I am doing well, and that I am getting excellent care at Swedish. He says something generic but it is communicated with an air of hipster sweetness so I feel supported. All in all, the blood draw and conversation take less than 3 minutes.
My total wait time was 50 minutes. It was not so bad. I am trying to think about time and waiting differently these days and it seems to be working. I also try to make sure that I don’t try to squeeze medical appointments into my schedule.
If they hired one vampire they could take care of this problem, stat. Just sayin’.
My hubby’s been getting the short end of the stick lately when it comes to my blog. While it is true that he sometimes lacks consistency in carrying out the hum drum, monotonous, but important daily tasks, he is the king of the big project. For my first birthday we celebrated after we started dating, he made me a full sized quilt. Did he know how to sew? No, but he figured it out. He appliqued the sun on the top and the moon on the bottom. In the middle, he wrote “I love you” in appliqued letters. It was and is pretty awesome. My mom still brings up the fact that he made that quilt from time to time, sometimes as a random celebration of John and other times as a much needed reminder to me that my husband is awesome and loving. See, now I’m starting to regret telling you blog readers out there about this. I will never be able to complain about him again!
John was not perhaps as hands on following my surgeries last week as I would have liked. We were both surprised at how painful they were. I think John expected me to be She-RA again. But I was an anxious, weepy woman for a couple of days. Although John was off work from Wednesday to Friday of last week, he was pretty busy on Thursday and Friday, working on a big project. I’ve already mentioned that he is building a deck. Part of his frenzy in getting it done is that he wants it to be a gift for me, a peaceful respite next year away from cancer. So John is pretty awesome and the deck is going to be cool.
Now for something fun. Here’s a photo from an earlier stage of the deck construction. Your job is to provide a caption for this picture!
What is this man doing?
My Eyes Are Up Here 