The News Sammich

Yesterday's post op appointment was less than optimal. I got the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad drains out- which was less painful than the biopsy and a lot less disgusting than I feared. That darn biopsy is my new benchmark for pain tolerance which is a bit terrifying as I know it was relatively minor and quick. I am a wimp. I do have my shining moments though- like the one where I thought that my mastectomy scar looked like a wrinkly little grimace and wouldn't it be funny if I drew eyes on it for the big post op reveal? Phil looked at me really strange and when he was done laughing and shaking his head, he asked but what if they don't think it's funny? Oh it will be funny- and then it occurred to me- what would be even funnier- googly eyes! So yes, I did.  And that was the hi light of the day. 

The surgeon then hugged me and told me we needed safer margins on the breast. Crap. GDMFCSSOB. The good news is the margins on the invasive cancer were good- 5-6mm- they usually want a solid 2mm- he was completely shocked that I knew this number- but then again- not my first tumor rodeo. I began questioning the logic of this skin sparing procedure after all. We got less than a mm and that's not good enough unless we do radiation. I don't do radiation. So we need to go in for more- it's not a big deal- we could do it in the office, but you will be more comfortable if we do it in the OR. I'm not really sure that is the case. And I'm know for sure the rest of my day being spent in the sedation admission center was also not comfortable. Nor will showing up today at 730 to sit around and wait for 3rd case. But you do what you gotta do.

The best part was rounding the 3.5 hour mark in the SAC waiting room- and it is a sack of something up there- something gone horribly horribly wrong in the whole time and manpower management scheme. I get a call(my husband was hovering near the window trying to get a signal to call our neighbor to again pick up the kids from school since we were not going to make it in between trying to get me to calm down and not fall over) and it's The SAC. They are calling to tell me what time to report in the morning. You do know I am right down the hall still sitting in YOUR waiting room right now!? I say disgustedly to the little tech who couldn't get a blood draw from me 7 days ago. Oh? You are still waiting to see the nurse? Yes. She should know that because I just did my 6th lap past the desk no less than 5 minutes ago. Each time I smile at them- yes all of you- lab tech who can't draw blood- friendly black dude who I think is paid to just walk people back and forth between waiting rooms, several nurses who seem to hide behind the desk. Well do you want to know what time to report? she asks. Please- enlighten me. 0745. What case am I? um, well I think it's 3rd. Seriously 0745 for 3rd case. YHGTBSM. I was bumped to 3rd case last week and didn't go in until after 11. As third case- I could have spent 4 hours tomorrow waiting in the sac for you all to process my sac shit and if they could take me earlier- you could really quick ask me three times in a row what my name is and when I was born and I could tell you again that I have a chest full of rash and blisters so hell will probably freeze over before I wipe myself down with your cancer causing chlorohexidine wipes. I've got enough cancer thank you very much. Oh yeah and I'm allergic adhesive too. Even paper tape? Especially paper tape. Steri strips? Yep. Wow. Uh huh.

I have to keep faith. I have to hold firm that this is for the best and this measure will keep me safer without pumping or irradiating myself with toxic chemicals. The good news? Apparently- according to my sources- when you rip a wound open - it heals faster the second time. Good to know. Although I feel pretty sure that in 8 hours, I will feel less healed than right now- so total picture....anyone?anyone?