I was right. Waking up feeling like a million bucks, then taking a highly medicated nap and waking up an invalid was pretty brutal.
Here is what I remember:
- Being wheeled into the OR filled with good-looking people and lots of lights.
- Waking up in recovery to an awesome nurse named EJ who I spent the next hour musing about what her initials stood for– Extraordinary Jewel, Exemplary Junebug, Eggplant Juice. I am positive I drove her nuts.
- I’m going to skip over to the whole hospital stay ’cause it was pretty homogeneous. Ouch. Why? Help? What is this thing? etc.
- I did have have one hurdle, in that I couldn’t pee for hours so I needed a straight catheter. Those are the worst, but it felt so good to have my bladder emptied and it worked normally from then on.
- Muscles. Thank god I have some. I have really needed to rely on my abs, as my upper body is useless. Getting out of bed and into the bathroom feels like a feat worthy of great acclaim.
- Pain pump button. Dilaudid is THE JAM. I pressed that sucker every 9 minutes like a junkie on a binge in an LA dumpster.
- Drains. They are like implanted grenades hanging from tubes under your armpits. Someone on my team has to strip the tubes and measure out how much fluid I am producing. Only when the output gets lower than a certain point can they come out. Let’s just say we are not even in the ballpark. They are sort of cute. I like them. They are like my little buddies. I think I will name them. Stay tuned.
- My sister. You guys. She is superhuman. She hasn’t left my side and is always 2 steps ahead of my needs. You should all get a Jennie Fauls ’cause there is no better model made in the world. She hand-fed me tiny bites of Sweet Mandy B’s cookies for what seemed like hours and hours and it was magical. She rubbed my back, she listened to me and made sure my every need was attended to.
Leaving the hospital was pretty exciting. The sundowner syndrome in a hospital is intense. What day is it? What time is it? Where are my boobs? I was ready to get out of there.
I was wheelchair-ed out to the car by cheerful Rashanna (‘Rashanna’s the name, transport’s the game!’) and had a decent car ride until the end when the muscles around my breast area started to spasm. Holy shit that sucks real bad. Now I see why muscle relaxers are necessary.
I’m back at my mom’s to recover in peace. I am glued to the glorious recliner chair that my new friend Stephanie gifted to me. Short term plan is to walk around a little every hour, narc up, rest, be bird-fed tiny bites of cookies for an hour and then repeat.
If any of my beloved blog readers have any questions about the process, please feel free to ask away in the comments section on Facebook.
Oh yeah, and did I mention that my NODES ARE CLEAR?! No cancer found outside the breast. I am one lucky, unlucky ducky.