One week ago today, I opened my eyes, saw a bunch of people I didn't know and promptly went back to sleep. The next time I woke, my husband was there, and I was in a hospital room. I remember two things from that day - the same nurse kept coming when I rang the call bell. Didn't she EVER go home? and when I peeked down my hospital gown, my belly button was sitting up; WAY high. Drugged or not, I knew that was wrong.
Surgery was successful - that's the word from my surgeon so far. All the cancer was confined to my uterus. and apparently, they woke me up a little too quickly and I became combative. My adopted kid (40s) who works at the hospital was waiting for me in post-op and saw the whole thing. She said my doc looked at her and screamed - get help! Which goes to show you...if you try to kill me in my sleep or if I think you're doing that, I will whip some ass. :-D
Back to this second belly button dilemma...apparently, they took the fatty apron from in front of my intestines in case any cancer cells had settled into that comfy sofa and wanted to stay. According to sources whose accuracy for fact is not known to me, this is also done in weight loss procedures, so that if there is hanging skin that gets infected or something, insurance will cover removing it. I feel pretty confident mine's not that bad. As soon as things heal up, i'm considering a little belly button embelishment. Wouldn't a connecting earring be cool? ;-)
Still healing, still on drugs, still having trouble with cohesive sentences. Will write more as I find out more.
I'm just about ready to get out and have some fun.
Friday, June 30, 2017
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Proactive Me :-)
WELL!
Now that the shock has worn off, I'm in a better frame of mind. I won't lie, the last two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. First, I was numb. Then I was pissed - especially at the ER doctor who told me I was constipated and sent me home. And then panic set in. Every morning, I woke with this crippling fear. And then I cried. Honey, I cried everywhere -- at work, in the bathroom, walking the dogs, drinking coffee. But it always made me feel better, later. So my advice to anyone who receives devastating diagnoses - go with it the first week or so. Let yourself cry, but don't stay down there. Do Not Let It Keep You Down.
Yes, I'm still a bit scared. I mean, who wouldn't be? But since I have this thing, I have no choice but to fight it. And battle, I will! How I reached this particular point is funny, actually. My husband pissed me off. I know this has been scary for him, too, but he was MEAN. He said things to me I wouldn't say to my worst enemy, and I could have beaned him with a heavy lamp, but I like my lamp, so...
When he pissed me off, though, it ignited this spark inside of me. Fuck you, I thought, and fuck cancer, too. And that spark has found fuel and burst into flames.
BATTLE!!!!
My surgery is a week from tomorrow. My PET scan is Tuesday. I'm far more afraid of the PET scan, but no matter what it reveals, this girl's going to stay pissed. I have to.
I've researched diet, plan to speak with a RD, have already planned out what will be needed after surgery and have begun gathering necessities. When the anxiety hits, meditation and a boatload of lavender. It smells good, and if it does for me what it did for that little frog I found hiding in the plant pot, all the better. That little frog looked stoned. He was so relaxed he didn't even move when i poked him. He only looked at me like..what?
Ah, it's nice to know there's spirit in me, yet. I will beat this. Watch. :-)
Now that the shock has worn off, I'm in a better frame of mind. I won't lie, the last two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. First, I was numb. Then I was pissed - especially at the ER doctor who told me I was constipated and sent me home. And then panic set in. Every morning, I woke with this crippling fear. And then I cried. Honey, I cried everywhere -- at work, in the bathroom, walking the dogs, drinking coffee. But it always made me feel better, later. So my advice to anyone who receives devastating diagnoses - go with it the first week or so. Let yourself cry, but don't stay down there. Do Not Let It Keep You Down.
Yes, I'm still a bit scared. I mean, who wouldn't be? But since I have this thing, I have no choice but to fight it. And battle, I will! How I reached this particular point is funny, actually. My husband pissed me off. I know this has been scary for him, too, but he was MEAN. He said things to me I wouldn't say to my worst enemy, and I could have beaned him with a heavy lamp, but I like my lamp, so...
When he pissed me off, though, it ignited this spark inside of me. Fuck you, I thought, and fuck cancer, too. And that spark has found fuel and burst into flames.
BATTLE!!!!
My surgery is a week from tomorrow. My PET scan is Tuesday. I'm far more afraid of the PET scan, but no matter what it reveals, this girl's going to stay pissed. I have to.
I've researched diet, plan to speak with a RD, have already planned out what will be needed after surgery and have begun gathering necessities. When the anxiety hits, meditation and a boatload of lavender. It smells good, and if it does for me what it did for that little frog I found hiding in the plant pot, all the better. That little frog looked stoned. He was so relaxed he didn't even move when i poked him. He only looked at me like..what?
Ah, it's nice to know there's spirit in me, yet. I will beat this. Watch. :-)
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