im home, we arrived back in the home sweet home around 6 this evening-surgery was an hour and a half longer than expected. i also awoke to having a drain 'sewn' in the incision site which bothered me..mostly because I dont recall the doctor ever mentioning the possibility of having a drain attached to my body for seven friggin days..o well-who knows what i did or didnt hear..Chances are that when the word 'cancer' is on the tip of a doctors tongue, you start listening so hard that you end up hearing little else.
In the car waiting for Robert to pick up my meds I suddenly got very nauseous and a couple of minutes later when he came out I was barely conscious-he said my lips and face were gray, my pulse was thready and I was POURING sweat-he called it 'diaphoretic' and immediately put my seat all the way back and my feet on the dashboard and I felt better with minutes. Apparently its a type of shock that can happen after surgery...o well , learning something new every day!

Considering my high tolerance for pain, the actual pain from surgery is minimal-mostly because I walk slowly and am very careful with my wounded boob..Its a very ugly gash and honestly it looks like it was sewn up in a hurry - cosmetically I dont really care after all-it cant be any worse than the giant scar over the top of my rite boob where i got shot oh so many years ago.

So the next wait begins-the pathology report. I spend a lot of time at the boards on breastcancer.org and it actually has been what has kept me calm. There are 3 or 4 other women going through the process like me and I suppose at this point, im crossing my fingers for us all. Talking to them keeps me from feeling alienated-thank the gods (or whatever higher power there is ) for these women.

At this point my only hope is that Im not Stage 4 - which is considered a death sentence by the highly logical (but hopeless) Tomorrow we start bugging the surgical clinic for the path report..
the Vicodin is kicking in, hopefully i get some good sleep tonite-sweet dreams!

wide awake since 330, eager to get to the hospital i suppose...too bad ive got to wait SIX darn more hours...I dont guess theyd let me come in this early and get things over with...HA..o well!

Tomorrow is biopsy day..weird to say but Im so relieved to be getting it over with . I feel like anything is better than being in a permanent 'hold' pattern-its pure torture not being able to make ANY choices-listening to other people quibble over daily choices that I now look at as simplistic, if not menial choices..
I want to be able to move on , one way or the other-move towards treatment and if im seriously lucky-move towards maintaining a cancer free happy life..I want to believe that I wont have to tell mira that I have cancer. I want to believe that she wont be emotionally torn apart over that. We shall see.

found this today chart showing the incidence of cancer based on characteristics- i have the big 2 - spiculation, microcalcifications- in a weird way, it makes me feel better looking at this because then I dont feel like im overreacting. . the statistics are unfortunately in my 'favor'. 2 more days till biopsy.

Yesterday was the preop, rather uneventul...go here. sit here. take your blood. go back there. sit here. Listen to me ask you the same questions as everyone else..any history of medical blah blah blah. Two things of interest : the nurse said that the doctor would  probably be able to tell Rob some initial results right after surgery and 2: i get wire guided excisional biopsy...strangely enough they 'wire me up' in 1 place, then we drive around the block to ambulatory surgery...seems a little weird to me...but whatever.

Im not nervous (yet) i think we'll probably tell our daughter about the surgery tonight, mosstly becaue it lays groundwork for any possible diagnosis.

the countdown is finally hitting singular numbers..Wednesday is pre-op at noon followed by dinner with friends..I always seem to find good ways to keep my mind busy. Well, maybe not always. Most times though. I picked up Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy (see my fuckit list on the other page) planning on starting that in my softball free, post recovery time.
Now im looking for a program that will strip away parts of music, such as vocals and guitar-leaving me with just the drum beats..we shall see-ive read conflicting reports that doing this is impossible-but heyyyyy I know some people who know some people...fuhgeddaboutit.
H

Our co-ed softball team finished our last game earlier this afternoon. I don't think we've ever played better-we actually kept the other team from running away with the game-ending score was 5-1 i think..who knows? We were laughing, playing and enjoying ourselves..I can't remember having had a better time in a long while. My beautiful husband was frigging awesome-my heart swelled with pride as he kept catching the balls.I love him so much!
We lost the game with grace, I told their coach that I was proud to lose to their team. I meet the end of the season with a tiny bit of sadness-i jokingly told maddy now I had nothing to think about but my boobs until biopsy day. Joking, but as always, serious.
I catch myself wondering where we will be at this time next year, if I will be fit and trim-will I be looking back to this season and grinning that I dodged a huge bullet? Or sad that I didnt enjoy playing as much as I couldve? I think too much-I can't say that I would ever regret NOT doing something-Robert brings that out of me, the ability to enjoy these moments and see them for what they are-fleeting and everlasting in my minds eye..I will always laugh at the memory of getting thrown out of the game, how much I enjoyed seeing my own progress over the season...so for now, this is one of the girls of summer, tucking away the softball glove and bats...at least until practice for next season st

its my birthday. i got up wanting to stay busy and ive always wanted to try my hand at mosaic stepping stones. after 4 HOURS in lowes, home depot and other assorted building stuff places I discovered this was NOT something you could throw together and do. As Im realizing this in lowes, it occurs to me as the poor salesperson talks, i realize patrick swayze is dead of cancer, its my birthday and what if its my last birthday ever?  within the span of 2 seconds, i go from mortar and adhesive to i think im gonna die . I began bawling big baby tears in the middle of the damn store. I pull myself together, go out to the car and just as i shut the door, this huge sobs start to break.  I was crying and snotting and all the way home it was boiling. I walked in the door and spent the afternoon vacuuming and crying-apparently because Ill never be able to appreciate Dirty Dancing and lust Patrick Swayze without feeling sad. Certainly im not all emotional because i may or may not have cancer...right?

I totally get that im being melodramatic. I know. Allow me this, just for today. Let me be, leave me alone and enable me to be a girl that doesnt need to be fixed...give me a day to be afraid for my daughter and my husband. Tomorrow ill go back to being the over the top horribly funny (and amazingly gorgeous, too) woman that is adored by the masses...or at least by adored by my daughter.

A friend and I were having a discussion about pet peeves and I was reminded of what my number one of all times is this. People who give creedence to stereotypes. Perhaps my largest and most soapbox-ish subject..its been bouncing around in my head since the conversation and since i miscounted how many days it is till surgery(16 more days), ive got to find something else to fixate on for, .. say at least the next five minutes..Here goes. (DEEP BREATH)

Women. Women who look like your wife, sister daughter, mom-whatever. We are an extremely large group with this dangling stereotype for being weak and unable to function independent of man. Can we blame it on previous generations of women born and bred to be the Beav's Mom? Perhaps we should point the finger at women who sit with a kleenex box and watch Lifetime all day. As women, as I, the mother of a future woman I MUST provide my daughter with a different view of what a woman is. Sure, sure, women are not innocent creatures in a world of big bad men.

Generally the stereotype is a woman who cannot make a decision unless a set of testicles tell her its okay to decide. I am NOT a man hater *in fact i absolutely find men to generally be a delicious creature* After all, the types of men who attract these weak minded women, NEED these type of women in their lives. So it falls back to her. Worst case scenario, she is willing be his victim through physical abuse. She makes no true effort to get away,  only lackluster attempts to reach out that invariably end up as her saying , "i tried."  Even worse, she has made children with this guy and now shes training her children to basicly further the cycle. It is highly unlikely that these children will be the exception to the rule. Thanks, Mom.

Need further clarification to ID these women here are a list of attributes...see if its someone you know:
1. She seems to enjoy telling everyone the latest drama at home, but isnt interested in advice or opinions. She just wants to tell you how bad it is at her place.
2. She doesnt have any true long term friends due to the fact that she has allowed herself to be cut off from anyone who may come between her and her 'addiction'
3. She is probably more than willing to admit he has entire magazine subscriptions (instead of issues) when it comes to emotional problems-but, alas-she thinks she can fix him.
4. She alludes to being a saint, because one day-he will change and love her.

Do you sense my not-so-underlying anger? I have this wonderful husband. I chose him carefully-and he would be the first to tell you that he has never doubted for a second that I would pack up and leave at the slightest hint of violence or if misgivings ever came up.

IF you are one of these women I describe and you miraculously made it this far-you are probably wondering why I say these things so heartlessly. Its simple. If you have stayed with him this long, you are probably just as sick as he is. If you have children with this guy and you subject them to this guy, . .you have no excuse. No excuses. Stop it. Stop furthering the belief that women should be subserviant to be happy. Its bullshit. Shut up. Get up. Grab your kids and start walking and dont stop until you find a shelter. No matter what he says when and if he finds you, he won't change and deep down-you know this already. Be someone other than yourself and make a different decision this time.

(as i put my soapbox back in the closet) okay. we can all go back to worrying about whether or not i have cancer again.

I thought I'd share the photo I took with my palm pre at the surgical consult. Im sitting on the examine table in an all too small paper napkin shirt waiting for the surgeon to come in. Im kicking my feet on the side of the table, making faces at my mildly amused husband, playing with apps on my phone and then I look up, straight across from is this magazine cover!
I seize upon it immediately for comic relief-but truly, I tell my husband-turn that magazine around backwards! Its like Bush and Cheney are edging in through a time portal that masquerades itself as a Time Magazine. They are  oogling me! I was laughing so hard I nearly cried.

But it was creepy.