Oh, hi. Didn’t see you there.
I know, I know, I said I’d do a blog entry while I was in the hospital and I meant to, I really did. But somewhere in between lolling about, gazing at the beautiful flowers sent to me by family and old friends and catching up on my reading I just never got around to it.
Okay. How about in between walking up and down the halls to keep my lungs clear, gazing at the beautiful flowers sent to me by family and old friends and doing some real post -surgical recovery I just never got around to it?
The good news? The surgery is done. It’s done, finit, “outta here”, really-gone-baby-oh-so-gone. The great news? It went perfectly. It was long and complex and according to my doctor’s fellow, “a real doozy”, but it’s over.
All told, I spent 5 days in the hospital and they were surprisingly busy ones. My doctor’s fellow stopped by twice a day, once with her staff and then with my doctor. They want you up and walking almost as soon as you come out of the recovery room, so there were lots and lots of trips up to the reading area in the far corridor, pushing my IV tree as I went. I got poked and prodded and woken up at 3 in the morning for blood pressure and oxygen tests. I had my hair massaged with a dry shampoo and braided.
I had a lot of bad hospital food, drank gallons of hot tea and read Graham Nash’s autobiography. I watched “The Blind Side” (not bad), “The Hunger Games” (really overrated) and laughed when a nurse pulled a chair over to watch a Philadelphia Eagles game with me. The Eagles won and she won $50 from her son on a game-day bet.
I did physical therapy exercises, had a speech therapist watch me swallow coffee and drooled like a Basset Hound because of where my surgical site is. I had the nursing staff fall in love with my handknit socks. I made my doctor laugh because when he came to see me I was sitting in bed knitting a sock and had a double pointed sock knitting needle jammed behind my left ear.
“I think you’re ready to go home.”
Yes, please, but this is only one piece of it. I had my follow-up visit on Friday and while he’s positively giddy with how well I’m doing, I won’t be able to avoid chemo. One of the little bastards he removed was an aggressive little beast and he wants to make sure he gets all of so we don’t have to do this all over again.
I couldn’t agree with him more.
The good news is that there’s about six weeks before the medical part of the treatment starts, so I’ll have some time to heal. Although I’m no longer drooling (much to the delight of my boyfriend and the cat), I’m still really swollen. And my tongue still isn’t quite sure where it should go just yet. That’s for the speech therapist and me to work out and all of that fun starts the week after next.
And if all goes as planned, and it looks like it will, and depending on the length of radiation and chemo treatments, there’s a really good possibility I’ll be done with all of this by the end of the year.
Happy New Year, indeed.