Taking the week before my surgery off work to get stuff done and ready for Christmas has proven to be a really good idea. I’ve made some amazing progress with making gifts, I’ve had time to suffer through a rotten ass cold, and I went for my first mammogram.
And then my second mammogram.
And then a follow up ultrasound because something doesn’t look right.
And now tomorrow I’ll be having a needle biopsy done. On the left side. Same as the ovary. (also the same side that has a purple and green Celtic butterfly tattoo, but I digress)
I’m trying to stay positive about this, I really am. But honestly, it really does feel like my whole body is hell bent on making me pay for sins I committed as a much younger person. I am not at all amused.
On the upside, the mammogram docs are trying to coordinate things with the oncology doc that will be taking out the ovary so that just in case I need two surgeries I can have both done at the same time. A TWO-FER!!!
Still not amused.
For what it’s worth, I will never EVER go on vacation again.
I spent a good part of this morning in the basement cleaning up/out my desk and surrounding areas. When I moved upstairs (movin’ on up to the west side, fo reals yo) I didn’t take too much time to worry about the space I was leaving behind in the basement, space that had included my bedroom and an office area. But something about the upcoming surgery, and the difficulties lately in finding things, put me in a frame of mind to get down to it. We’re also getting ready for my mom’s new treadmill to be delivered tomorrow so the floor needed some attention. All of this explanation to finally explain why I am laughing until I pee (this time).
Garth has a little stuffed squirrel toy that is his absolute favorite. He carries it around in his mouth even though it’s nearly the size of his head. His favorite thing to do is throw it up in the air and then catch it. I lovingly refer to it as his Squirrelfriend. Tossing her around is even more fun to do on the wide open basement tile floor.
Anyway, I’m feeling a bit like there’s a ticking clock looming over my shoulder. Not in an “end of my life, Grim Reaper” kind of way, more in a “holy fucking hell, I’m having surgery in only slightly more than TWO WEEKS” kind of way. Wait, maybe that is the fame feeling…
I’ve been working diligently to make sure that everything is as ready as possible before S-Day. The amazing thing about having a surgery in December is that you’ve almost certainly met your health insurance deductible. The horrific thing about having a surgery in December is that convalescing time is almost certainly going to wreak havoc with Christmas preparations.
After waiting nearly NINETY MINUTES past when my appointment was scheduled for I finally got to meet the doctor. She had yet to see the images taken when I was in the ER but based on the information she did have she feels fairly certain that this is not cancer. But it’s coming out. In fact, it’s coming out on December 5th. I’m quite please by this because 1) I’ve almost hit the deductible for my health insurance and B) Earl’s gotta die. Yes, I named the cyst. Shush.
I have every intention of getting my poo in a pile between now and then. I also might have a new stuff polar bear to keep me company just in case my outpatient surgery ends up requiring a bigger incision and we have a 4 night slumber party. But I can neither confirm nor deny that.
Last night was insanely rough. I haven’t really been feeling good since Friday. I got home from work that afternoon and took a nap. I don’t take naps. Saturday I went to the wedding and thought I was over the ick feeling. Sunday afternoon I took another nap. Yesterday I stayed at work almost all day but I was seriously dragging ass. I got home and honestly thought I was going to die. I had the worst stomach cramps of my entire life, I started running a fever, and I threw up.
I do not make a good sick person, not at all. I typically have a very high tolerance for pain but at a certain point I get reduced to a very whiny child. That’s exactly where I was.
Last night that’s how I felt. Except it was me in that tiny dumpster. No bueno.
This morning after a giant cup of iced coffee and a very warm shower I’m starting to feel better. I’m still cold, so I’m probably still running a fever, but I’m at home in my fuzzy purple bathrobe and I’m planning to chill the rest of the day.