So...I had the surgery on 12/16/19 and went home on 12/17/19! What a relief, as the hospital room was FREEZING COLD...and the food was salt-free, caffeine-free, and flavor-free. An angel in a nurse's uniform had brought me a cup of coffee with actual caffeine in it, which was just what I had needed to conquer the sinus headache brought on by the cold, dry room.
I'm having surprisingly little pain, which is nice. Today I'm driving myself to the follow-up appointment since I'm not on any opioids. No antibiotics have been prescribed, either, which is of some concern since I've been labeled as "infection-prone." So far there are no signs of infection, however. Hooray! Will take extra time to drive s-l-o-w-l-y as I'm not sure how that seatbelt is going to feel, nor how getting in and out of the car is going to feel.
I'm just so looking forward to healing. Again. And also to having a real fake boob. Fake fake boobs are a pain in the...chest. It will be a relief to have something that's meant for its purpose, rather than trying to improvise with uncomfortable, uncooperative alternatives.
Although four surgeries instead of one was a lot to go through, it kind of cushioned the blow of losing a breast, since it went in stages (more like pieces...oy!) It's still horrible, but it seems easier to accept this way, rather than what would have been a "one and done."
I'm grateful to have Christmas to distract me! And am looking forward to a new year with new beginnings, including getting my business up and running again.
Thank you to all of you for your good thoughts and prayers. The power of prayer has never been more apparent in my life than it has this past year or so. God bless you all.
P.S. Some wonderful, thoughtful friend sent me the warmest, softest blanket via Amazon yesterday, and I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS! Alas, there was no card nor note nor clue of any kind. I'm so thankful for that and perhaps you can reveal your identity so that I can thank you personally. 💗
Friday, December 20, 2019
Thursday, December 5, 2019
My Erstwhile Surgery Date
So...here it is. December 5, 2019. My erstwhile surgery date. The date I waited for ALL summer; through all of the bullshit of musical surgeons and appointments, all the hoops through which Anthem Blue Cross required we jump, it's HERE. Today. This is IT. Not the most convenient time of year, but THIS IS IT.
No, it isn't.
That's why I'm conscious, coherent, and writing this blog. It didn't happen.
We got a call two nights ago from the surgical coordinator at the doctor's office. Apparently THE HOSPITAL (not them, you see - it's THE HOSPITAL that goofed) double-booked the time or the O.R. or some other such bullshit and, so, I'm OUT. Hubby's convinced that there was a bigger name with better insurance who was given priority. After all, we're just the little guys. It's OK if we swing in the wind. It's OK that we made plans, rushed Christmas preps, notified friends & family, took time off of work, and got mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared for this scary eventuality. It's OK because it's no more serious than getting one's hair done or teeth cleaned, right? No biggy. She's been waiting all summer for this surgery? F HER! We'll just move her around like a friggin' pawn on a G.D. chess board.
Angry? Who, me?
Re: swinging in the wind, they were supposed to have called back yesterday to confirm the new date, or to confirm that they couldn't keep the old date or whatever-the-F. By 2:00 yesterday afternoon I was ready to start drinking so, of course, I had to call THEM. Voice mail. Natch.
Anyway, when she finally called me back it was with an entirely different date. So that's three, for those of you keeping score. Wonder how long that date will stick? I asked her if this was standard operating (pun intended) procedure for this particular hospital. This will be my first time at this hospital (I'm making the rounds). This certainly doesn't instill confidence. HELLO, HOLY CROSS HOSPITAL IN MISSION HILLS!
Well, I suppose that's all I needed to do here; vent. And so I have.
The saga continues...
No, it isn't.
That's why I'm conscious, coherent, and writing this blog. It didn't happen.
We got a call two nights ago from the surgical coordinator at the doctor's office. Apparently THE HOSPITAL (not them, you see - it's THE HOSPITAL that goofed) double-booked the time or the O.R. or some other such bullshit and, so, I'm OUT. Hubby's convinced that there was a bigger name with better insurance who was given priority. After all, we're just the little guys. It's OK if we swing in the wind. It's OK that we made plans, rushed Christmas preps, notified friends & family, took time off of work, and got mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared for this scary eventuality. It's OK because it's no more serious than getting one's hair done or teeth cleaned, right? No biggy. She's been waiting all summer for this surgery? F HER! We'll just move her around like a friggin' pawn on a G.D. chess board.
Angry? Who, me?
Re: swinging in the wind, they were supposed to have called back yesterday to confirm the new date, or to confirm that they couldn't keep the old date or whatever-the-F. By 2:00 yesterday afternoon I was ready to start drinking so, of course, I had to call THEM. Voice mail. Natch.
Anyway, when she finally called me back it was with an entirely different date. So that's three, for those of you keeping score. Wonder how long that date will stick? I asked her if this was standard operating (pun intended) procedure for this particular hospital. This will be my first time at this hospital (I'm making the rounds). This certainly doesn't instill confidence. HELLO, HOLY CROSS HOSPITAL IN MISSION HILLS!
Well, I suppose that's all I needed to do here; vent. And so I have.
The saga continues...
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