Sorry Floweer, The Beads are Still Mine

The conversation to the hospital:

“If I don’t make it, give Floweer all of my beads. Unless you and the boys want them, of course,”

“Also, give her my books.”

“Who gets me?” he asked.

“Won’t be my problem anymore!”

And then, after we he parked way far away in the hospital ramp rather than doing the valet parking right next to where I check in, I truly wasn’t wishing him on anybody. Making me walk the entire length of a hospital full of sick people everywhere. I had words to say along those corridors. Thanks for the pre-surgery fight, you damn cheap parker! I don’t know what was up with that but I’ll remember that when it comes time for his dual hernia surgery.

We checked in at the first floor desk (the one right next to where the valets takes your car) and found out that I was to check in on the 5th floor. Which was news to me. So up we went and what a  pleasant surprise to me that they had an Ambulatory Surgical Center smack dab on top of that old, crappy oncology office (that moved after my first chemo) and was nice, not crappy at all.

I got called back right away and put on one of those robes that come with vacuum cleaner hoses. Which was cool seeing as how I was to have a little lipsuction, but not where the hose went in. Okay, not funny. It was a warming hose. Then I got a big thick terry robe and got to sit on a rolling chaise lounge. Not like the thin cotton gowns and gurneys of the basement surgical waiting room.

I got asked all kinds of questions from all kinds of people – everyone of them wanted to know about my sleep apnea and my CPAP, to which I replied, “I was diagnosed with mild sleep apnea right before my breast cancer diagnosis, was hooked up with a CPAP, but was unable to sleep well after my surgery so I didn’t meet with their timed compliance and they forced me to either return it or buy it outright – without their assistance in getting the right air number. And if I want it again, I have to start all over with the sleep study.”

Good thing that losing 7 lbs. of breasts and 13 lbs. of regular fat have made me sleep apnea even more mild. I hardly wake up coughing at night anymore.

The nurse placed the IV in crook of my arm, not in my hand – like I’d feared. I hate those IVs in the hand. This one was totally painless and I could move my arm. I love good IV-placing nurses!

Anyway. Instead of being gurneed down the scary operating basement, my nurse and I took a stroll down the hallway to the operating room. I thought that was weird but also thought that it meant they knew I was pretty danged healthy. And that’s mostly what I want. To be healthy. And to have my scars revised and my upper backfat liposuctioned.

Cute Dr. Doogie Howser had marked me up, showing where he’d be removing skin and fat, and where he’d be liposuctioning. He warned me about the bruising from the lipo. Some of which I saw over the top of my dressings last night.

I get to remove the ace bandage and all the gauze today. There are steri-strips coving the new scars, that have dissolving stitches, which I’m sure I’ll have to return to  his office for manual removal. I have popped a dissolving stitch every time, and then they don’t dissolve when they’re not baked inside puffy white middle aged flesh.

Before I went to sleep, the surgical team and I were discussing the palate of Stella Mirra, Retrieved Golden. That dog is quite the entertainment. Next thing I know, I’m laying back in the room I started in. I hope I got to walk it! The surgery itself lasted about an hour, maybe a little under.

I wake up really well from anesthesia. No stomach troubles. I’m just nice and in search of graham crackers and sprite. Both of which I don’t normally like. They’re my after-surgery special.

I don’t feel too bad this  morning. A little stinging, but I can move my arms around more than I thought. Heck, I already unloaded the dishwasher last night! I took a couple of percocets and that took the edge off and allowed me to sleep for a couple of hours, but then I was wide awake so I hunted down the key to the safe, where the drugs hide,  that I’m alway moving, and got myself a sleeping pill, which gave me another 5 hours. Well, I should probably still be sleeping until the effects wear off because it’s obvious I’m still under its’ influence (my head feels heavy and I walk with my head leaning over, like it wished to lay down at the next available surface.)

Any time today I can remove all the bandages and take a shower. I have to tell you, though, I can already see a smaller upper back even though there is still some swelling. I’m very excited to see what he’s done.

And I’m very excited to just keep on getting better.

Thank you to everyone who wished me well. And to those of you who didn’t – what’s up with that?

xox

Kathy