For Better or Worse or Drain Hoses

Tuesday was my first follow up with the ps.  I spent the previous three days laying, obviously, and literally, very low. During the day I don't feel that bad, nights are rougher.  I am a "left side only" sleeper and that's off limits now. They recommend sleeping on my back and elevated. The main pain I get is in my back.  And my ass was STILL numb so that was killing me too.  I reserved the pain pills mainly for the nighttime.  Chris has taken to sleeping on a cot next to the bed. I have to sleep on "his" right side of the bed to get out if needed.  And he twists and turns all night and is afraid to hit me so he relocated.

It's surprising how much you need your left arm to sit up and get out of a bed!  I'm getting the hang of it.

I was very apprehensive about this ps visit.  Up until now I haven't looked at myself, the bra hasn't come off, even to squat bathe.  When I'm walking into something not knowing pretty much what's going to happen I get nervous.  This has been a big lesson in relinquishing control of the situation.

I needed to change into gown.  I was told they'd remove dressings.  The med assistant did the first few, which involved taking off the bra, and of course I say "ok" in that completely shaky voice that screams yeah, go ahead and do it I'm totally cool with that.  She said if at any time I needed a break she'd stop.

She took it off and my eyes immediately went to everywhere else BUT my chest. Chris stayed very respectful and glued his eyes to Farmville on his phone. He's serious about his farm.  But I appreciated his respect so much.  She was quick and said the ps would be in to remove the one around my drain.  He came in and checked everything quickly.  Removed some padding around the drain but replaced it with some gauze between the hose and my skin.  Said everything looked good.  He said he was able to fill the expander with about 180cc of saline so that I did have some form there.  

This guy cracks me up.  He asked if I had questions, and I asked in that quaking voice if everything was ok - translation - Did they get everything out, is my lymph node clean, what does all this mean???  I said I hadn't talked to my surgeon at all since before the surgery.

He says, "Yes you did."

I say, "No I didn't."

He says, "Yeah! You did!"

I say, "Shut up!!  When?"

This probably occurred in the aforementioned roofie twilight.  Where she told me everything turned out ok.  This is what she told Chris.  But yeah, not recalling this.......

Let me tell you that Chris has been the friggen bomb since we left the hospital.  Brings me my meds on the clock, sleeping in the cot, chauffeuring me to Target numerous times for entertainment, getting the kids ready for school, and cooking.  Amazing.  

He also has been taking care of comforting the kids with all this.  You think they don't get things.  They do.  You think you're carrying on as normal to shield them.  You're not.  Ty is forthright with his feelings.  When he gets off the bus, he wants to know if I'm there.  If they are getting watched by my parents, he wants to know if it's because I'm going to the hospital.  He asked me straight up-

What did they cut?

Where did they cut?

How did they cut it?

Will it come back? 

Did you feel it?

Jack holds all his stuff inside, but you know his wheels are turning.... working with him takes time.  My sweet boys. 

Two nights ago he had to change the gauze by the tube.  And while I was about the pass the hell out seeing a tube just hanging out my chest, held in with some stitches, he changed the gauze, stuck it with some teddy bear bandages (that's all we had, another trip to Target yay!), and padded it with another piece.  He said my theatrics made him more nervous than doing it lol.  He rocks.  

At some point I'm going to have to check out what's going on "there".  Without the dressing I see I have one 3 inch incision in my armpit (it's getting Survivor-style now, oy) and one straight across the breast.  So far I kind of only look down into the bra to see.  I can definitely feel the expander now, and things are all kinds of lumpy in there.  So at some point I have to put on my big-girl pants and just look.  And accept what will be the new me.  My friend reminded me that this is not what the end result will be.  It's going to get better, even though it won't be perfect.  

She said, "Mine aren't perfect, nor is my ass.  Go shopping."  

Wise, wise words.