I’m feeling a little discombobulated today cause I found I have a hopefully minor setback in my healing from the mastectomy. I have to have a surgery tomorrow morning to reopen the surgical site, remove a hematoma and possibly exchange the implant that is there. My understanding is a hematoma is a pocket filled with blood that develops occasionally, possibly because of my Factor V Leiden problem and the need to go on and off the blood thinners I normally take.
I should be able to go home tomorrow and they do not think I’ll need to have the wound vac back, just the drainage tubes. So I think it will just be a bump in the road and a pain in the boob! Probably see you more next week…
When we first met, I was spring, you were summer
We married soon after though you were encumbered
With kids you brought with, then we added our own
Now it nears autumn and all are about grown
If not for the grandkids winter would be a bummer😀
In response to Mind and Life Matters Limerick Poetry Challenge, Seasons!
It’s nearly a week after my surgery and I’m starting to feel a little more like myself today. I had some problems so the docs stopped my blood thinners (pills and shots) Saturday thinking I might be developing a hematoma. Let me tell you, I was afraid my brand new boob was going to end up pretty close to my collarbone! So along with the changes in my meds, my chest was wrapped with a wide elastic bandage to put additional pressure over the lovely post-surgical bra and I’ve been sleeping (or not) semi-upright in a recliner. And I am to continue walking around to lessen chance of developing a clot. Some of us are just more work, apparently…
And yesterday hubby washed my hair for me while I sat in a chair by the kitchen sink. It was heavenly! I had tried dry shampoo and it helped, but it wasn’t the same as having totally clean hair. Not being able to do things for yourself makes you very grateful for the little niceties.
Family and friends have dropped off delicious meals for us so we’re all well fed and I’m fixing my own coffee now as long as I lift and carry with my left arm.
I have a sponge like device over the wound, some type of wound vac that draws fluids away from the wound through tubes that go into an electronic box about the size of a small tv remote pinned to my left side. Usually it’s silent but every once in awhile it sounds like a cat. Always makes me smile when my pet device purrs…
And some really good news, the pathology report came back Stage 1a. By older standards, there would be no further treatment, but waiting to get results of genome test to see if chemo will be recommended. Another few weeks or so on those results. It’s a genetic test that can predict how the cancer will behave as far as reoccurring or not. Indications are that my cancer will be well behaved and not need further treatment. I ask you, would the Ladies have any other kind?
My mind is still foggy and I don’t think I can take anymore pain meds as they are messing with my dreams…though some might make good stories down the road if I remember them! Hopefully back to writing more soon.
I love Martha’s thoughts on being married!
Oh, those pesky vows. How they can interfere with one’s selfish pursuits.
Shortly before I married my husband, 22 years ago next month, one of my former co-workers stood in front of me. She was middle-aged and divorced. Giving me a smirky smile, she said, ‘Oh, you think he’s so perfect now. Check back in ten years when the magic’s worn off. Believe me, it disappears.’
Thanks for that, I replied. And I’m sorry your marriage didn’t last, but bestowing your bitterness on me didn’t work. I reflected on that exchange this week as I’ve been thinking about marriage. Commitment. Vows.
Jim and I met up with a couple from New York earlier this week. Sometimes we only see them once a year, but it’s always enjoyable. They’ve been married for longer then we have. They’re two pieces of a puzzle, they’re just both.
Then there’s the woman who, after…
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