Second thing - Being off on disability allowed me to accompany my daughter's class on a field trip to the planetarium. Today was the very first time I've ever attended any of my kid's field trips. I am usually at work and unable to attend such events. I learned that fourty 8 year olds on a bus equals one large headache. I hope I won't have to stay on disability too long.
My surgery is set for next thursday, Feb 3rd. That is 8 days away.
In some ways it seems so long. I hate walking around knowing that there is a tumor growing inside me. It consumes a little bit of my every thought. It's always in the back of my head.
As I sit at home and watch TV, or walk my dog, I always think to myself "it's just me and my cancer, hanging out for the day" It bothers me. I want it out. Cancer is shitty company. Very selfish. And like a bad houseguest, it just keeps taking over more space.
On the other hand 8 days seems too short. Too short of a time to enjoy my body the way it is now. Too short of a time to accept that it will never look like this again. All this time, I've hated the way I looked in my little red bikini. Now all I wanna do is prance around in it and say "look at me, I got boobs!" I have never paid this much attention to my chest before, but now that I'm gonna have my boobies removed it makes me sad. After all, I got attached to them. They've been with me through a lot.
I feel like I should have a party or something, and say a proper goodbye.
I could make funny invitations that read "Breast Wishes to me!" I wonder if people would show up for that. I'd order one of those theme cakes with 2 cherries on it and we could scare our new neighbours by throwing all my nice bras in a bonfire at night. We'd be the talk of the street. Sigh.
Yup, 8 days is way too short to plan something grandiose like that.
Alas, in a little over a week, at 6:45 am I will show up at the same hospital where my original biopsy got done. Then, the same ladies who poked me the first time, will get to do it again. But this time they will accompany me to the 'nuclear medicine department' (I am not kidding! It exists) and inject radioactive nuclear material in my tumor. Apparently I will not enjoy that part. Really?
Next I wait around for 2 hours until the dye travels to distant parts in my body and then, upon a full body scan I will be released into Brad's custody who will then have the joy of taking me (glowing and all) to another hospital where the actual mastectomy will take place.
With all this to look forward to, it's no wonder I can't sleep at night.
2 comments:
The injection with the dye isn't so bad at all ... it burns a bit - kind of like the first needle in the biopsy. Depending on where they inject it - it shouldn't be bad. Mine was put in near my tumor, not through my nipple - so I was lucky. I hope you are too. And the waiting around part ... well they kept me lying down on the table and at 30 minute intervals they would slide me into the machine to "take pictures" and see how far the dye has traveled. When it was finished and they ID'd the node, I got a nice sharpie "X" marks the spot.
PS - The radioactive tracer ... makes you pee blue. Or green. Actually, kind of a bluish-green - almost neon. Don't be alarmed. =) It's just for a day or so. It's just startling when you first look in the toilet after you've had surgery and see it's blue.
I'm rooting for you,
Melissa
Oh I would've definitely had a 'Breast Wishes' party! That's hilarious. A good sense of humor doesn't necessarily make things easier, but it makes them more bearable for the person and the caregivers (and it's plenty entertaining for readers!). Thanks for the smiles!
Post a Comment