I show up at Mirsky's office a couple of minutes late and ask the receptionist if she needs my health card. "I don't think so" she replies as she looks at her computer and pulls out my file. I sit and open my book.
"Nothing has changed?" she asks after a minute or two. Huh? Well, I have three holes in my right side and there's less of me to love this time....hmm, how do I respond to that?? "Nothing's changed regarding what?" I ask. "The information on your health card". Ah, lightbulbs.
Soon I'm ushered into one of Mirsky's examination rooms where I continue to read. He pops his head in after only a couple of paragraphs. "You look great. You look like your going to have surgery, not like you just had an operation." Seriously, how do give a guy like that shit??
The visit was brief. We went over the pathology report again and some of the particular symptoms I am having. Nothing to worry about - no sweat - it may take up to two years for all the nerves to come back to life. The oncologist will call as soon as the hormone and Her-2 reports are in. That apparently could take another week or two - but I should hear from them before Christmas at least.
As for the drugs, he wanted to know what the hell I was doing that I needed more than 12 pills. While I was telling him he just shook his head and stared at me. "You can call me anytime and I'll give you more pills if you need them. Most people take it a little easier after surgery and do just fine with one every six hours." I'm not sure that's true, or whether his patients just don't tell him he's stingy with drugs. I told him that I had no trouble getting more and he just laughed and told me to say nothing else about it:)
Time for the examination. He just looked and said, "It looks great. I did a great job." I burst out laughing. I said he thought it looked good only because he did the cutting. "Trust me, when you're the cuttee - it looks like crap and sucks big time." He just laughed.
That's it. Now it's just wait for the last two reports and the call from the cancer institute to take the next steps. Right now my arm is feeling great and the incisions aren't doing too badly - although I appear to have a small infection at the edge of one of the incisions. Dr S called in some antibiotics for me however - so that's well in hand as well!
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Milestones and Lessons
What a week! On Wednesday I was ready to write to you all to let you know that I was progressing very well and had achieved some great milestones. I had managed to get three pieces of that dreadful tape off, I got on a sports bra for the first time, and I was out and about on my own - I headed to PetSmart and Costco! Very exciting events. Also, our little Peanut had a urinary crystal and peed all over my duvet and quilt - so I hauled all of that stuff to the basement and washed it. Duvets are really heavy when wet (and quilts are heavy even when dry)!
Sadly, I never got to make that post because by Wednesday evening I was in so much pain that I could barely walk. I tried a couple of Aleve but that did absolutely nothing. The entire surgical area (we're talking three separate incisions/holes!!!!!) was more painful than the day following surgery. It was oozy and inflamed and swollen. Perhaps I overdid it just a noodge. (Jane, none of these exclamation points is redundant. They are all meaningful and required to express my complete dismay at having than many incisions:))
I took a pain pill (Thank you D - you know who you are even if someone else has to read the post to you) and went to sleep. Thursday however wasn't much better and things got much worse through the day, despite the fact that I sat around on the sofa reading all day with almost zero activity. At 15:00 I picked up Logan from school and just the process of showering and dressing was incredibly painful. I called the "We Care" clinic and asked to see the nurse.
The lovely Beth had a look to see if my incisions were infected. She removed all the tape! That stuff is horrible. Everytime I moved it would pull and poke at some sensitive part of my underarm. The tape would fold in on itself and stab me at the incision site! yuk. Beth rinsed everything out and told me that, while she didn't think I had any infection, everything was inflamed and the drain site was not healing well. Leaking at this late stage is apparently not a good thing. Beth put a simple gauze over the drain site and suggested I see my family doc just to be sure. She also asked me to tell Mirsky that the drains are a pain. Poor Mirsky!
Thursday night was Glebe's music night and it was a great show, but I only managed to get through it with a little pill and little movement.
By Friday things were getting much better and dad schlepped me around running errands and wouldn't let me do much. I made a big pot of chili for Syd's chili dinner fundraiser and basically chilled. Friday night I was well enough to catch Hey Rosetta at Bronson Centre.
Lesson learned however. It is better to have some limitations on what I can achieve in a day and what I can do on my own than to be in terrible pain and basically totally dependent on everyone for everything! Intellectually a simple proposition, but very difficult to implement. I hate this part of cancer. Between that and the incredible boredom, this may just be more difficult than I thought.
It is now Sunday morning and I think that getting that tape off has made the world of difference. The site is grotesque but seems to be healing much more rapidly now that it is getting more air and not being repeatedly stabbed by sharp tape. I still have no feeling on the underside of my arm which creeps me out - but that may be only temporary. All in all, much improved. If anyone has any suggestions for what I can do with my mind over the next while - please let me know! Love to everyone.
Sadly, I never got to make that post because by Wednesday evening I was in so much pain that I could barely walk. I tried a couple of Aleve but that did absolutely nothing. The entire surgical area (we're talking three separate incisions/holes!!!!!) was more painful than the day following surgery. It was oozy and inflamed and swollen. Perhaps I overdid it just a noodge. (Jane, none of these exclamation points is redundant. They are all meaningful and required to express my complete dismay at having than many incisions:))
I took a pain pill (Thank you D - you know who you are even if someone else has to read the post to you) and went to sleep. Thursday however wasn't much better and things got much worse through the day, despite the fact that I sat around on the sofa reading all day with almost zero activity. At 15:00 I picked up Logan from school and just the process of showering and dressing was incredibly painful. I called the "We Care" clinic and asked to see the nurse.
The lovely Beth had a look to see if my incisions were infected. She removed all the tape! That stuff is horrible. Everytime I moved it would pull and poke at some sensitive part of my underarm. The tape would fold in on itself and stab me at the incision site! yuk. Beth rinsed everything out and told me that, while she didn't think I had any infection, everything was inflamed and the drain site was not healing well. Leaking at this late stage is apparently not a good thing. Beth put a simple gauze over the drain site and suggested I see my family doc just to be sure. She also asked me to tell Mirsky that the drains are a pain. Poor Mirsky!
Thursday night was Glebe's music night and it was a great show, but I only managed to get through it with a little pill and little movement.
By Friday things were getting much better and dad schlepped me around running errands and wouldn't let me do much. I made a big pot of chili for Syd's chili dinner fundraiser and basically chilled. Friday night I was well enough to catch Hey Rosetta at Bronson Centre.
Lesson learned however. It is better to have some limitations on what I can achieve in a day and what I can do on my own than to be in terrible pain and basically totally dependent on everyone for everything! Intellectually a simple proposition, but very difficult to implement. I hate this part of cancer. Between that and the incredible boredom, this may just be more difficult than I thought.
It is now Sunday morning and I think that getting that tape off has made the world of difference. The site is grotesque but seems to be healing much more rapidly now that it is getting more air and not being repeatedly stabbed by sharp tape. I still have no feeling on the underside of my arm which creeps me out - but that may be only temporary. All in all, much improved. If anyone has any suggestions for what I can do with my mind over the next while - please let me know! Love to everyone.
Friday, 18 November 2011
Call from Mirsky
The surgeon himself called today around 17:00 to let me know what the pathology report said and to follow up from the surgery. The report still doesn't have the results on the hormone receptability of the cancer, which won't arrive until late next week, but he was able to clarify/explain some things.
It seems that two of the sentinal nodes tested positive for cancer so he took all of the nodes out. I wasn't very clear with him on the phone unfortunately as Syd was with me - but he said, "I took that triangle that we discussed in my office." I pulled out the pear pictures and, wouldn't you know it, it appears that he removed all of the nodes - something I was desperately trying to avoid! I got in touch later with Heather who confirmed that with the nodes it's an all or nothing deal - if even one tests positive then they all have to go! I thought that they could remove just one string. [Enter expletive here.] It does explain however the level of pain and discomfort that I've been having. I couldn't figure out why the removal of one string meant that I couldn't go from laying down to sitting or sitting to standing without an incredible rush of pressure and breath taking pain! Now I know. Bending over to pick up anything from the floor is a definite throw back to pre-op days! I need one of those giant pincers on the end of a long stick.
On a lighter note, there were actually three separate tumours that Mirsky removed - the largest was an inch and the combined size of the three was half a centimeter larger than that. They were all stage II. Yay me! He is now sending everything over to the cancer institute but he told me to expect chemo at the very least. My ever-helpful sister has told me that "rad" is always given as well. At least I've had alot of advanced warning for that - unlike the nodes.
Do you suppose the Department of Justice will accomodate me on my return to work by hiring someone to follow me around and pick things up for me????? Frankly, sitting here tonight jonesing for some red licorice, I think that it's the least they could do:)
It seems that two of the sentinal nodes tested positive for cancer so he took all of the nodes out. I wasn't very clear with him on the phone unfortunately as Syd was with me - but he said, "I took that triangle that we discussed in my office." I pulled out the pear pictures and, wouldn't you know it, it appears that he removed all of the nodes - something I was desperately trying to avoid! I got in touch later with Heather who confirmed that with the nodes it's an all or nothing deal - if even one tests positive then they all have to go! I thought that they could remove just one string. [Enter expletive here.] It does explain however the level of pain and discomfort that I've been having. I couldn't figure out why the removal of one string meant that I couldn't go from laying down to sitting or sitting to standing without an incredible rush of pressure and breath taking pain! Now I know. Bending over to pick up anything from the floor is a definite throw back to pre-op days! I need one of those giant pincers on the end of a long stick.
On a lighter note, there were actually three separate tumours that Mirsky removed - the largest was an inch and the combined size of the three was half a centimeter larger than that. They were all stage II. Yay me! He is now sending everything over to the cancer institute but he told me to expect chemo at the very least. My ever-helpful sister has told me that "rad" is always given as well. At least I've had alot of advanced warning for that - unlike the nodes.
Do you suppose the Department of Justice will accomodate me on my return to work by hiring someone to follow me around and pick things up for me????? Frankly, sitting here tonight jonesing for some red licorice, I think that it's the least they could do:)
Thursday, 17 November 2011
Drain Free and Showered!
The dreaded drain was removed day before yesterday at "We Care" at Billings. Despite the lame name, the service provided by We Care both at their facilities and through their in-home nurses was exceptional.
The drain really freaked me out. It was the one thing that, pre-op, I couldn't wrap my head around. To have a tube from inside me to outside of me was not right. Plus it was gross. Pain I can manage, blechy-ness is totally beyond me. Thinking of it pre-op made me weepy and by the 10th I had completely convinced myself that I wouldn't have one. Ignorance is bliss - I believe that more every day. Fortunately, a hospital volunteer sewed these wonderful little pouches that carried the drain and tied around the neck for minimal viewing and discomfort. That made dealing with it at home for five days was doable - but only barely.
Mother came to pick me up the morning of the removal. I was nauseous. I seriously thought I would hurl. I had very serious doubts that I could get through this next phase without hurling, passing out from blechy-ness and/or pain or screaming my face off. (That's a really awesome expression by the way, and very apropos my feelings on having the drain removed.)
I waited until the last minute to leave the house and when we arrived three minutes before my scheduled appointment time, I seriously suggested to mom that we wait in the car. She didn't seem to realize that I was serious however.
We didn't wait long before the nurse came out. It was an odd encourter as she had been given only my last name (which no one ever uses if they can avoid it) and my initial. She literally came out and said hello. I wasn't sure if she was for me nor did it appear she was sure either. In any event, we quickly resolved the name issue and off we went to the torture chamber.
The first thing out of my mouth was that I was going to puke and she should really get a bucket. Being a nurse, she wasn't fazed a bit - and never did get the bucket come to think of it. I was sweating enough buckets apparently. She was quite good and told me that everyone was really leery of this process and it wasn't nearly as bad as it seemed from my side of it. I doubted her seriously. She also told me that she would be removing all of the dressings in addition to the drain - which I didn't know and was totally unprepared for. Ignorance is truly bliss.
She had me lay down and she immediately went to work removing the dressings - and just fyi, having medical tape ripped off of one's armpit is painful in its own right. Once she had everything off we got down to business. Although I still today refuse to look, she told me Mirsky did a really good job. She also said that if the nodes hadn't been involved, the surgery would have been nothing. The major part of my surgery and the part that will take the longest to recover from is the node removal apparently. And a week out, I can vouch for that - it is what is continuing to cause me the majority of the pain and discomfort.
She gave me my instructions, "Take a deep breath in through your nose and release through your mouth and I will remove the drain while you exhale." Seriously? I just looked at her and told her that I could hold my breath for an incredibly long time! The meany told me that she could wait me out.
SPOILER ALERT: THIS NEXT PART IS GROSS! The drain was apparently held in place with a couple stitches. One of them was rather "tight" and the nurse had a really difficult time removing it. She had to snip and tug and the stitch and my flesh. I think I might puke just writing about it now. I begged her to leave it in but she wouldn't. She warned me that if she did it would soon start to bug me and Mirsky would tell me it was all in my head if I complained about it to him. That made me laugh - Mirsky wouldn't dare tell me something was "all in my head." The man knows me by now! Anyway, it's out and I lived.
Afterwards, the nurse/meany put on some surgical tape as it had come off during the dressing removal. These will apparently just fall off over the next few weeks and are holding me closed apparently (retch).
The really great news was that, as of that appointment, I am free to once again luxuriate in a shower! Yay me.
I'm now in a boring phase, doing my physio and trying to get back into the swing of things as they were pre-op. I still can't lift the sax to practice, so stay tuned as to whether I'll be able to make the concert on the 13th. Cheers.
The drain really freaked me out. It was the one thing that, pre-op, I couldn't wrap my head around. To have a tube from inside me to outside of me was not right. Plus it was gross. Pain I can manage, blechy-ness is totally beyond me. Thinking of it pre-op made me weepy and by the 10th I had completely convinced myself that I wouldn't have one. Ignorance is bliss - I believe that more every day. Fortunately, a hospital volunteer sewed these wonderful little pouches that carried the drain and tied around the neck for minimal viewing and discomfort. That made dealing with it at home for five days was doable - but only barely.
Mother came to pick me up the morning of the removal. I was nauseous. I seriously thought I would hurl. I had very serious doubts that I could get through this next phase without hurling, passing out from blechy-ness and/or pain or screaming my face off. (That's a really awesome expression by the way, and very apropos my feelings on having the drain removed.)
I waited until the last minute to leave the house and when we arrived three minutes before my scheduled appointment time, I seriously suggested to mom that we wait in the car. She didn't seem to realize that I was serious however.
We didn't wait long before the nurse came out. It was an odd encourter as she had been given only my last name (which no one ever uses if they can avoid it) and my initial. She literally came out and said hello. I wasn't sure if she was for me nor did it appear she was sure either. In any event, we quickly resolved the name issue and off we went to the torture chamber.
The first thing out of my mouth was that I was going to puke and she should really get a bucket. Being a nurse, she wasn't fazed a bit - and never did get the bucket come to think of it. I was sweating enough buckets apparently. She was quite good and told me that everyone was really leery of this process and it wasn't nearly as bad as it seemed from my side of it. I doubted her seriously. She also told me that she would be removing all of the dressings in addition to the drain - which I didn't know and was totally unprepared for. Ignorance is truly bliss.
She had me lay down and she immediately went to work removing the dressings - and just fyi, having medical tape ripped off of one's armpit is painful in its own right. Once she had everything off we got down to business. Although I still today refuse to look, she told me Mirsky did a really good job. She also said that if the nodes hadn't been involved, the surgery would have been nothing. The major part of my surgery and the part that will take the longest to recover from is the node removal apparently. And a week out, I can vouch for that - it is what is continuing to cause me the majority of the pain and discomfort.
She gave me my instructions, "Take a deep breath in through your nose and release through your mouth and I will remove the drain while you exhale." Seriously? I just looked at her and told her that I could hold my breath for an incredibly long time! The meany told me that she could wait me out.
SPOILER ALERT: THIS NEXT PART IS GROSS! The drain was apparently held in place with a couple stitches. One of them was rather "tight" and the nurse had a really difficult time removing it. She had to snip and tug and the stitch and my flesh. I think I might puke just writing about it now. I begged her to leave it in but she wouldn't. She warned me that if she did it would soon start to bug me and Mirsky would tell me it was all in my head if I complained about it to him. That made me laugh - Mirsky wouldn't dare tell me something was "all in my head." The man knows me by now! Anyway, it's out and I lived.
Afterwards, the nurse/meany put on some surgical tape as it had come off during the dressing removal. These will apparently just fall off over the next few weeks and are holding me closed apparently (retch).
The really great news was that, as of that appointment, I am free to once again luxuriate in a shower! Yay me.
I'm now in a boring phase, doing my physio and trying to get back into the swing of things as they were pre-op. I still can't lift the sax to practice, so stay tuned as to whether I'll be able to make the concert on the 13th. Cheers.
Monday, 14 November 2011
To Poop or Not to Poop
Monday. Today I have taken my sick day from the surgery. I managed to "borrow" some extra pain killers from a friend who had surgery and didn't use all the drugs (I now, she's totally crazy - but it's worked out well for me). Her doc gave her enough for several days every 4 to 6 hours while my stingy as all get out doc gave me enough for two days every 6 hours only. Even my sister, who once told me that her bedside manner improved only after I provided her with my OHIP number and to sit down and remain quiet while she continued to practice testing reflexes, thought Mirsky was unnecessarily stingy with the drugs. I'll be sure to let him know my views.
So, while I spent the weekend up and about and ensuring mom did everything properly (she's still speaking to me - even with the sale of the piano so I know that I wasn't too obnoxious)and trying to comfort the kids by being as much my old self as possible, I needed the drugs to do it. This in turn has meant that I've been bunged up completely since Wednesday. This is not a good feeling. I thought long and hard about where the lesser evil lay - in giving up the drugs or giving up moving bowels. Eventually I know the drugs have to stop anyway, so, today was my stay in bed, read, nap and be sick day - and get off the drugs.
I awoke at my usual - 04:15 today and didn't take my dose of meds. I read for a while and eventually fell back asleep until I heard the kids moving about. I allowed them to wait on me hand and foot before they left for school! Logan brought me a lovely cup of tea and Syd brought me a blueberry muffin with a dab of butter. (Before you get to enthralled with the kids, I made the muffins before the surgery and froze them - but she did remember to thaw it out before bringing it to me.) I had a lovely morning. The relaxation, the tea and missing two doses of meds meant that I am no longer bunged up - and feeling awesome about that!
Mom dropped by around noon to clean the mess she made at dinner yesterday and I blissfully read and napped until mid-afternoon. Still off the meds as I write this and the kids are returning from school. Tomorrow the drain comes out at 08:30! Yay!
And now, I need to go and lie down, as the blog and my e-mail has worn me out!
So, while I spent the weekend up and about and ensuring mom did everything properly (she's still speaking to me - even with the sale of the piano so I know that I wasn't too obnoxious)and trying to comfort the kids by being as much my old self as possible, I needed the drugs to do it. This in turn has meant that I've been bunged up completely since Wednesday. This is not a good feeling. I thought long and hard about where the lesser evil lay - in giving up the drugs or giving up moving bowels. Eventually I know the drugs have to stop anyway, so, today was my stay in bed, read, nap and be sick day - and get off the drugs.
I awoke at my usual - 04:15 today and didn't take my dose of meds. I read for a while and eventually fell back asleep until I heard the kids moving about. I allowed them to wait on me hand and foot before they left for school! Logan brought me a lovely cup of tea and Syd brought me a blueberry muffin with a dab of butter. (Before you get to enthralled with the kids, I made the muffins before the surgery and froze them - but she did remember to thaw it out before bringing it to me.) I had a lovely morning. The relaxation, the tea and missing two doses of meds meant that I am no longer bunged up - and feeling awesome about that!
Mom dropped by around noon to clean the mess she made at dinner yesterday and I blissfully read and napped until mid-afternoon. Still off the meds as I write this and the kids are returning from school. Tomorrow the drain comes out at 08:30! Yay!
And now, I need to go and lie down, as the blog and my e-mail has worn me out!
Saturday, 12 November 2011
Saturday and all is well
I'm up and about, had a bath and washed my hair, put on makeup and I feel like me again - almost. Dr M is rather stingy with the pain killers - so if anyone has any lying around, I'll take 'em! I'm going to head over to 260 Fingers with mom and Laurie this afternoon. Syd is speaking to me again and seems in much better shape. Yesterday she had a little meltdown seeing her mom with tubes and drains and things. I think seeing me today looking more like myself has helped her alot.
Thanks again to everyone for everything. You are all awesome. Cheers
Thanks again to everyone for everything. You are all awesome. Cheers
Friday, 11 November 2011
I'm home!
The surgery staff at QCH were awesome! Sort of like MMI where the front end staff have pickles up their bums and the back room staff who actually do the tests were great.
I arrived on time and was sent to the waiting room just like during the pre-op. The wait wasn't long and I was sent down to Day Surgery. I was greeted there by the lovely Mary. Debs, you should know that I think we should do more to bring the Irish over here. The lovely Mary was all "Top o'the mornin' to ya love" and "tanks to ye" and on and on. I could have sat with her the whole day.
The lovely Mary escorted me into the waiting area and guess what? There were no chairs and no paper clothes! I got flannel pj bottoms and top and then a "housecoat" which was just another top backwards. And I got a bed! I changed and hopped right up there. I conned the nursing assistant, Dan, to let me keep my socks on and the second assistant brought me THREE warm blankets over the course of the morning! Heaven!
I sat and read my book in bed perfectly contented. Dr Mirsky came by for a brief visit and then Lisa took me off to give me the radioactive injection used to follow the lymph node path. Lisa has no friends - she admitted it! That woman caused more pain in 30 seconds than the moronic resident did who biopsied me without freezing! In fairness, Lisa did warn me that it was very painful and that it wouldn't last more than a minute or two - and she explained why that would be. It was sort of like all the advice you get when you're first pregnant and everyone tells you that labour will be painful. You never fully understand until you're in the middle of it. On the bright side, nothing has yet compared to the pain that Lisa caused, although that didn't last more than 30 seconds.
Lisa wheeled me back to the waiting room where I received the news that everything was delayed because the mammogram machine was broken. I found out later that two panels had fried and parts had come from Toronto and Chicago that had arrived late. I was in no hurry. I was lying in bed, reading and warm. Nirvana.
Soon a nurse came over to put in the IV (to help keep me hydrated), provide a Tylenol suppository (thankfully I had the choice to do that myself or have her administer it - guess which I chose) and let me know that I would soon be going for the dreaded wire insertion. If you recall, this is the part of the trip that had the potential to lead to a bloody nose! I sat up a little straighter and got my dukes up.
The mammogram tech came to wheel me over for the wire. I was left in a hallway briefly and then the ultrasound tech joined us. Everyone was lovely and they wheeled me into a bay and pulled the curtain. The US tech started explaining what would happen and then doctor Chow "Call me Abe" joined us. The first words out of his mouth other than "Call me Abe" were, "I'm going to give you a local freezing". Cue angels from heaven. I love Abe. I relaxed and did as I was told. Because it is my right side that's causing all this grief, they had to turn the gurney around which meant that I got to watch the whole thing on the ultra sound screen. That was actually kind of neat. I am eternally gratefull that I got the local - first because Abe's hands shook something fierce and secondly because I watched the needle go in then move around some and I didn't think that would feel good if I could feel. Sadly, the freezing was over way too soon and the wire was rather uncomfortable.
From the wire to the mammogram to ensure that it was properly place and then back to the waiting area. I must say that it was great fun to be wheeled aroun din bed all day:) All that was left was to wait my turn. I took a nap and read a little and it was all frankly uneventful. Shortly before noon I was wheeled over to the OR. I lay waiting in the hallway and eventually Dr M came and spoke to me. We went over the procedure again and did a short Q&A and then he was gone. Presently the anesthesiologist came by to ask a bunch of questions and explain things. He was a dead ringer for Andrew Y! Seriously - an identical twin. Good thing I wasn't too stoned at this point. Mirsky joined us and told the other doc that I was going to be the last patient of the day as the mammo was again on the fritz and they weren't goint o take any chances. If I had been cancelled it would have been rather devastating for me - so I'm very glad that we were able to go through with the operation and I'm very sad for the two women who didn't.
Lastly, a nurse came out to go over my chart and ask me questions and we were all set to - then the fire alarm sounded! She wheeled me into the OR in any event and two nurses and I sat around waiting to see what was going to happen. No one tried to evacuate or check things out - it was really more of an inconvenience than anything. Finally, the alarm ended and there was an announcement that everything was all clear. The anasthe....doc came in and the last thing I remember is proposing to him. Well, in determinig the rightthe drug dose, he asked if I weighed about 120 pounds and I felt marriage was the appropriate response.
Post op saw me back in the same waiting area. I remember speaking with Dr M but sadly don't remember much of what he said except that it was not good. They had to remove the nodes as there was indeed cancer in them and I do have a drain. However, a lovely volunteer, who had been through a mastectomy and had a draiin had designed and made lovely bags to cover and carry the drain. Much more efficient and better looking than my cupboard paper idea, I am very thankful to this unnamed woman. So, Dr M will tell me all about the pathology when I see him in two weeks and I won't be stoned for that visit so I'll be able to remember the details.
A lovely nurse - Tracey I think - helped me to get ready for leaving. In assisting me to get dressed, she started helping me into my pants when I told her we should probably take off the hospital pants first! She responded, "Oh! I'll get the scissors." Now, the pants weren't a fashion statement and would have made Sydny roll her eyes, but I didn't think cutting them off was warranted. When Tracey returned and lifted my gown she exclaimed, "Oh, those pants!" She had thought I was wearing an adult diaper! Seriously, there will likely come a time in my life for that - but either I was stoneder than I realize or I looked really bad post-op for her to have expected that. We had a good laugh over it however.
For now, I've had my second shot of morphine and I'm off to strange dream land. A huge thanks to all of you for cards and gifts and good vibes. Also a big thanks to the staff at QCH who were unfailingly supportive, caring and humourous during my brief visit with them yesterday.
Love to all.
I arrived on time and was sent to the waiting room just like during the pre-op. The wait wasn't long and I was sent down to Day Surgery. I was greeted there by the lovely Mary. Debs, you should know that I think we should do more to bring the Irish over here. The lovely Mary was all "Top o'the mornin' to ya love" and "tanks to ye" and on and on. I could have sat with her the whole day.
The lovely Mary escorted me into the waiting area and guess what? There were no chairs and no paper clothes! I got flannel pj bottoms and top and then a "housecoat" which was just another top backwards. And I got a bed! I changed and hopped right up there. I conned the nursing assistant, Dan, to let me keep my socks on and the second assistant brought me THREE warm blankets over the course of the morning! Heaven!
I sat and read my book in bed perfectly contented. Dr Mirsky came by for a brief visit and then Lisa took me off to give me the radioactive injection used to follow the lymph node path. Lisa has no friends - she admitted it! That woman caused more pain in 30 seconds than the moronic resident did who biopsied me without freezing! In fairness, Lisa did warn me that it was very painful and that it wouldn't last more than a minute or two - and she explained why that would be. It was sort of like all the advice you get when you're first pregnant and everyone tells you that labour will be painful. You never fully understand until you're in the middle of it. On the bright side, nothing has yet compared to the pain that Lisa caused, although that didn't last more than 30 seconds.
Lisa wheeled me back to the waiting room where I received the news that everything was delayed because the mammogram machine was broken. I found out later that two panels had fried and parts had come from Toronto and Chicago that had arrived late. I was in no hurry. I was lying in bed, reading and warm. Nirvana.
Soon a nurse came over to put in the IV (to help keep me hydrated), provide a Tylenol suppository (thankfully I had the choice to do that myself or have her administer it - guess which I chose) and let me know that I would soon be going for the dreaded wire insertion. If you recall, this is the part of the trip that had the potential to lead to a bloody nose! I sat up a little straighter and got my dukes up.
The mammogram tech came to wheel me over for the wire. I was left in a hallway briefly and then the ultrasound tech joined us. Everyone was lovely and they wheeled me into a bay and pulled the curtain. The US tech started explaining what would happen and then doctor Chow "Call me Abe" joined us. The first words out of his mouth other than "Call me Abe" were, "I'm going to give you a local freezing". Cue angels from heaven. I love Abe. I relaxed and did as I was told. Because it is my right side that's causing all this grief, they had to turn the gurney around which meant that I got to watch the whole thing on the ultra sound screen. That was actually kind of neat. I am eternally gratefull that I got the local - first because Abe's hands shook something fierce and secondly because I watched the needle go in then move around some and I didn't think that would feel good if I could feel. Sadly, the freezing was over way too soon and the wire was rather uncomfortable.
From the wire to the mammogram to ensure that it was properly place and then back to the waiting area. I must say that it was great fun to be wheeled aroun din bed all day:) All that was left was to wait my turn. I took a nap and read a little and it was all frankly uneventful. Shortly before noon I was wheeled over to the OR. I lay waiting in the hallway and eventually Dr M came and spoke to me. We went over the procedure again and did a short Q&A and then he was gone. Presently the anesthesiologist came by to ask a bunch of questions and explain things. He was a dead ringer for Andrew Y! Seriously - an identical twin. Good thing I wasn't too stoned at this point. Mirsky joined us and told the other doc that I was going to be the last patient of the day as the mammo was again on the fritz and they weren't goint o take any chances. If I had been cancelled it would have been rather devastating for me - so I'm very glad that we were able to go through with the operation and I'm very sad for the two women who didn't.
Lastly, a nurse came out to go over my chart and ask me questions and we were all set to - then the fire alarm sounded! She wheeled me into the OR in any event and two nurses and I sat around waiting to see what was going to happen. No one tried to evacuate or check things out - it was really more of an inconvenience than anything. Finally, the alarm ended and there was an announcement that everything was all clear. The anasthe....doc came in and the last thing I remember is proposing to him. Well, in determinig the rightthe drug dose, he asked if I weighed about 120 pounds and I felt marriage was the appropriate response.
Post op saw me back in the same waiting area. I remember speaking with Dr M but sadly don't remember much of what he said except that it was not good. They had to remove the nodes as there was indeed cancer in them and I do have a drain. However, a lovely volunteer, who had been through a mastectomy and had a draiin had designed and made lovely bags to cover and carry the drain. Much more efficient and better looking than my cupboard paper idea, I am very thankful to this unnamed woman. So, Dr M will tell me all about the pathology when I see him in two weeks and I won't be stoned for that visit so I'll be able to remember the details.
A lovely nurse - Tracey I think - helped me to get ready for leaving. In assisting me to get dressed, she started helping me into my pants when I told her we should probably take off the hospital pants first! She responded, "Oh! I'll get the scissors." Now, the pants weren't a fashion statement and would have made Sydny roll her eyes, but I didn't think cutting them off was warranted. When Tracey returned and lifted my gown she exclaimed, "Oh, those pants!" She had thought I was wearing an adult diaper! Seriously, there will likely come a time in my life for that - but either I was stoneder than I realize or I looked really bad post-op for her to have expected that. We had a good laugh over it however.
For now, I've had my second shot of morphine and I'm off to strange dream land. A huge thanks to all of you for cards and gifts and good vibes. Also a big thanks to the staff at QCH who were unfailingly supportive, caring and humourous during my brief visit with them yesterday.
Love to all.
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
No Room for Procrastination
Well, this is it. In less than four hours I'm banned from food and drink. I have just finished my Peanut Buster Parfait with the kids because I can think of no better way to start a fast:) I've not finished all the chores that I set for myself before going under the knife - but they'll just have to wait. The new perspective I have means I don't even have to stress over all the loose ends I'm leaving.
As many of you have noticed, I didn't do the clock quite right. I'll try to fix it before I sign off tonight. I'm hoping to get some sleep, I've got my clothes and books all lined up (including the ski socks that they'll have to kill me to make me take off) and my strategy for killing time at the hospital. There really is nothing more that I can do now.
Thanks to all of you who have sent wishes and good vibes for tomorrow. I've got my Crazy Cancer book, my cancer cookbook, my chocolate and my magic wand all arrayed beside my bed. Cheers:)
As many of you have noticed, I didn't do the clock quite right. I'll try to fix it before I sign off tonight. I'm hoping to get some sleep, I've got my clothes and books all lined up (including the ski socks that they'll have to kill me to make me take off) and my strategy for killing time at the hospital. There really is nothing more that I can do now.
Thanks to all of you who have sent wishes and good vibes for tomorrow. I've got my Crazy Cancer book, my cancer cookbook, my chocolate and my magic wand all arrayed beside my bed. Cheers:)
Friday, 4 November 2011
Live with the Butterflies
The first Christmas after we moved to Old Ottawa South, the kids and I went to the "holiday season performance" at HAPS. When I was tucking the kids into bed that night, Logan was unusually despondent. In response to my question about what was wrong he confessed that he hadn't tried out for a part in the performance because he'd been afraid to. He regretted not having done so as some of his classmates and friends were in it and it looked like it was fun.
Logan and I talked about how that feeling of nervousness or "butterflies in your tummy" was a good thing and that it meant that you were thinking about doing something outside of the box, outside of the comfort zone and that in turn meant that you were growing as an individual and doing new things - stretching the boundaries.
"Always live life with the butterflies", I told him. If you think about doing something and it gives you that butterfly feeling then that is the thing that you need to go for. We three turned "Live with the butterflies" into our family motto and I credit that in large measure for the incredible achievements my kids have had and the wonderful things that they've not only dared to try but have been successful with - even if only they knew what the success was.
Sydny, who was very young at this time, heard all the conversations about butterflies and trying new things. The following summer, Sydny and I were bike riding to the RA Centre for day camp. Sydny was relatively new to riding a two wheeler and was nervous about going on the streets, even in our neighbourhood. I told her not to worry - that this was just a "butterfly" moment. She peddaled for another minute and then let rip a tremendous fart! "Ah", she said, "That takes care of those butterflies"!
When I got the diagnosis of cancer I took a good look at everything - as one does. I got alot of work done around the house that I've been putting off (for years in some cases) and I'm having all the furniture reupholstered (it needed to be done 20 years ago when I got the pieces from my grandparents - you can imagine the shape they're in). I've also been flirting with the idea of getting a small tatoo but I could never decide what or where.
Cancer is a real focusser. I am now the proud wearer of a beautiful butterfly tatoo, complete with the motto "Live with the butterflies". And a great big thank you to my kids for following my advice even when I don't always follow it. They are my inspiration.
Logan and I talked about how that feeling of nervousness or "butterflies in your tummy" was a good thing and that it meant that you were thinking about doing something outside of the box, outside of the comfort zone and that in turn meant that you were growing as an individual and doing new things - stretching the boundaries.
"Always live life with the butterflies", I told him. If you think about doing something and it gives you that butterfly feeling then that is the thing that you need to go for. We three turned "Live with the butterflies" into our family motto and I credit that in large measure for the incredible achievements my kids have had and the wonderful things that they've not only dared to try but have been successful with - even if only they knew what the success was.
Sydny, who was very young at this time, heard all the conversations about butterflies and trying new things. The following summer, Sydny and I were bike riding to the RA Centre for day camp. Sydny was relatively new to riding a two wheeler and was nervous about going on the streets, even in our neighbourhood. I told her not to worry - that this was just a "butterfly" moment. She peddaled for another minute and then let rip a tremendous fart! "Ah", she said, "That takes care of those butterflies"!
When I got the diagnosis of cancer I took a good look at everything - as one does. I got alot of work done around the house that I've been putting off (for years in some cases) and I'm having all the furniture reupholstered (it needed to be done 20 years ago when I got the pieces from my grandparents - you can imagine the shape they're in). I've also been flirting with the idea of getting a small tatoo but I could never decide what or where.
Cancer is a real focusser. I am now the proud wearer of a beautiful butterfly tatoo, complete with the motto "Live with the butterflies". And a great big thank you to my kids for following my advice even when I don't always follow it. They are my inspiration.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Community Care Access Centre
Did you know that Ontario has replaced hospital care with the CCAC? I had no idea but, guess what? They seem quite competent. I spoke with them today and found out that a lovely nurse will come and give me uber-gravol and morphine by injection when I get home from the hospital on Thursday and will return Friday morning and do it all over again:) Also, with this homecare the drugs only cost me $2.00 per dose - so never mind the 20% we pay usually, I get the whole batch of drugs for $20.00. I like this. I also get percocet to take after the lovely needles - I presume that is a good drug.
Best news of all, they think it's unlikely that I'll come home with a drain but said that the lovely Dr Mirsky will decide that once he's in there. No drain will make this a cake walk. I was NOT looking forward to a hose leaking parts of me. UKK! Keep your fingers crossed everyone and hopefully I'll avoid it. Cheers for now.
Best news of all, they think it's unlikely that I'll come home with a drain but said that the lovely Dr Mirsky will decide that once he's in there. No drain will make this a cake walk. I was NOT looking forward to a hose leaking parts of me. UKK! Keep your fingers crossed everyone and hopefully I'll avoid it. Cheers for now.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)