Greetings from the other side of surgery. I’m snugly wound and bound in a giant Ace bandage, a wee bit sore and tender and temporarily left-handed but officially relieved of laundry and Stella-walking duty for a few days so, on balance, doing just fine.
The official term for my surgery was wire-assisted excisional biopsy and I did way too much googling about the wire part prior to Tuesday and was, thus, slightly wiggy about everything. I have to say, it was not the most festive thing I’ve ever done.
And that’s putting it mildly.
It took them about an hour to sufficiently smash what needed to be smashed to get a good view so they could insert the wire and by the time they got to that part I was in so much pain that they could have gone ahead with surgery without anesthesia and I wouldn’t have cared but I have to say in the middle of the worst part, one small act of kindness made everything bearable. The nurse put her arm around my waist and brushed the hair back from my eyes and simply looked at me with comfort and willed me to be courageous and it was just what I needed to grit my teeth and keep going on.
Just remembering that makes me weepy.
Never underestimate the power of a gentle touch to a friend who is hurting.
Anyhoo, it was finally over and they wheeled me back to pre-op to insert the IV and Craig was waiting there for me and I burst into tears and told him I earned jewelry for that. The nurses got a big kick out of it and decided that shoes and a new handbag weren’t a bridge too far. (Craig swears I’m making it all up and conveniently says that the good stuff in the IV is making me remember things that didn’t happen but I was there and we all know I never miss a chance to ask for something shiny.)
I started feeling fuzzy on the way to the OR but stayed awake long enough to scoot over onto a very cold table and say hello to my surgeon and then it was lights out until the recovery room. They gave me the Michael Jackson drug (and where can I buy that by the 55 gallon drum?) and it didn’t make me feel hangovery or anything and I was able to go home fairly soon after waking up. I spent the rest of the day sleeping and icing and sleeping and icing and woke up yesterday feeling much better.
Pathology report should come back later today or tomorrow, and they said they wouldn’t make me wait until my follow-up appointment next week to hear the results so I’m just waiting for the phone call. I’m not anxious – I figure they are what they are and we just get to find out – but am hoping this was all just a fun exercise for nothing. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy bossing the menfolk about and letting them participate in the joys of unloading the dishwasher and cleaning the kitchen after dinner.
Honestly, that’s better than bling.
Have a nice day.