Xavier was infernally weary of his mother. She held the family purse strings closely. He was still driving his 2015 Audi R8 Spyder and she thought it was fine. She wanted him to take fewer vacations. A 39-year-old should stop mountain climbing and start giving her grandchildren.
He needed the old bat off the Board of Directors so he could take control. He’d tried to get her to step down, but she refused. It was pure luck that she began taking a new medication, Xarelto.* He would try surreptitiously doubling her dose and perhaps she would fall and bleed out. Accidentally.
My theme this year is 100 word fiction (So, no, don’t count this line!) *Xarelto is a newer blood thinner for which there is not currently an antidote. I don’t really know if you’d die of internal bleeding from a fall if your dose was doubled.
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.