The Edge… There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
~ Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga
This second surgery is a beast, I’m wiped out. I have felt off and with so much insanity in my life right now I wasn’t sure from whence it came.
I took the perfect spawn with me to surgery, it was outpatient after all. I’m not sure it was the brightest move I’ve made. He was visibly upset by seeing me with an IV in my hand. He couldn’t stop touching and kissing me as we hung out in pre-op. My surgeon, who is a fucking rockstar, managed him very well. She asked him to please not correct her if he heard her say something wrong, it played right into his ego and made him more relaxed.
I went out to visit my mother, resting with an incredible view of “the supes”. I still felt squirrelly and off. Thankfully my Schatzy knows me well enough that he did the two things that turned the tide.
I’d like to imagine that anyone getting a prognosis that is worse that initially identified would feel the same. I lay on the couch staring out the picture window when my dark side took over. I was trying be quiet and listen to my body in order to feel what muscle had been cut during surgery.
As I did this I felt black blobs of doubt surround me, hopelessness descended and I hit a certain kind of despair. My husband said he had been watching me and saw my face change, so he ran up to me kissed me and whispered in my ear “don’t do this, we will make it”. I felt the darkness evaporate.
Later, as I lay on the couch again, my husband rubbed my feet. That foot massage was a miracle, the feeling of off and squirrelly dissolved. I began feeling more human again, something that I hadn’t realized I had missed feeling.
It’s interesting to note that a foot massage has been a transformative event both times I’ve had cancer.
So here I am today, back to trying to find humor in this completely fucked up situation.
Grateful for a tribe of people helping make this easier on my family. Grateful for a family that’s here for me. Grateful for my mother and allomother.
So where’s the humor? I’m searching for it high and low. I promise.
My surgeon used medical grade superglue on my incisions. Which is pretty cool. I have two incicions one near my armpit and the other around my nipple. Only my armpit incision needed to be re-opened. Which means that I have a nipple that is covered with flakes of superglue. Yes, the superglue is flaking off and I’m reminded of eucalyptus trees and of peeling bark. It’s weird. My nipple, however, looks great… underneath it all.
This is all starting to feel like a comedy of errors when coupled with my Hello Kitty “freezer burn”.