Red cars and rollercoasters

I haven’t written much lately, because post surgery my life is mostly about pain management (drugs and ice) and drainage tubes.  Not the stuff of inspiration. 

I spent about 24 hours in an actual hospital room before they sent me on my way and Bob carefully chauffeured me home. My sister, Mary Jo, and her daughter, Marit, arrived at my house that evening.  Marit was only able to stay a day before heading back to the Twin Cities.  But it was fun having her here.  She is getting married in June, and talking about showers and weddings was a good distraction. 

Overall the physical pain is very manageable. On the old 1 – 10 scale, it rarely goes above a three.  But it is fairly constant – like a dull ache. The drainage tube sucks in more than just the literal way.  It is a Jackson-Pratt drainage tube, so there a little grenade shaped bulb at the end.  After draining what is collected there, I squeeze all the air out of it, so a vacuum is created that draws the fluid from the surgical site.  Besides the discomfort, it makes the left side of my chest look like a really creepy modern sculpture. Tube comes out on Monday.  While I am dreading the actual removal, I am looking forward to it being out.

After speaking to a number of my friends today I realized I am trying to keep myself knit together.  On a physical level I feel much like a slug.  I am moving slowly and get worn out very quickly.  I decided I needed a little fresh air so my sister and I went to the St. Peter Food Coop for an outing today.  That is three blocks from my house (we drove) and the entire adventure took about 25 minutes.  But that was pushing it for me and I needed to lie down and rest when I got home.  Emotionally I am riding an extreme rollercoaster – the type I would never go near in real life.  I feel fairly grounded and calm one minute, and the next minute I am plummeting straight down in a frenzy of fear and sadness.  And, a few minutes later, I feed the dogs, check my e-mail, and go about the normal business of everyday life.

Before my surgery this past Tuesday (a completion mastectomy, where they removed what was left of my left breast), a number of people asked me if I was ready for all this.  I didn’t know what to say.  How can you ever be ready for all this? 

On Sunday evening when Josh was on his way to the gym, he drove past a car dealership and spotted a Red Fiat 500.  When he got to the gym he called me and said, “mom, since you are not going to feel like doing so much after your surgery, do you want to go test drive a Fiat 500 tomorrow after school?”  This was not high on my list of “things I wanted to do before my next surgery” but because he wanted to do it, I said “sure.” 

And that is what we did.  I doubt there is a perfect ritual to prepare to lose a body part, but I think going for a joy ride in a small Italian car came pretty darn close.