Days One and Two

As I was waxing poetically about my next blog posting, I realized that my drug-inspired mist only provided the glimmer of astonishing and profound thought, but not the action required. So please accept my apology in advance for being already behind on this chronological missive.

On 10-10, the surgery itself: all the nursing and medical staff were at once, both kind and professional: everything you would want in someone pending to hack off 2 pounds of your diseased flesh. I was escorted to the OR and after getting tucked-in, with the mandatory "warm blankets," was given an IV cocktail that hours later, made you feel as mere minutes had passed. I should have paid more attention in Chemistry class....amazing stuff.

Rich and my friends Stacee, Rita Kae and Frank stayed the duration (well, mostly, except for when everyone but Stacee left for lunch, and she alone, received the surgeon who came to say "lymph nodes are all clear.") These are important words in the Cancer game: akin to "even though you were in a horrible car accident, your insurance will cover it," or perhaps "even though we cut off most of your right boob, your left is all clear.." Something like that.

Spent the night in the hospital in no significant distress, but totally exhausted. Kind of like when you stayed up the whole night to write a term paper on the projected effects of microeconomics in a macroeconomic environment, in Kenya. It was a wonderful opportunity to savor the effects of IV narcotics, which I've never known. (My drug of choice is Cabernet.)Now, I actually have first-hand (or first boob) experience with that drug that starts with a "D." Whenever my patients ask for it in that manner, I always reply: "Do you mean Docusate?"

I was expecting some fabulous out-of-body experience, but just felt sleepy. I'm not sure where that places me in the drug-seeker spectrum, but I am grateful not to have the future need to ruin my life and looks in pursuit of my next high....maybe just in pursuit of my next nice purse.

Modern pharma provided some interval hours of sleep, and in the AM, after getting the seal of approval from my wondrous plastics MD, I was good to go. Fluffy pillows and the reclining passenger's seat latch made the trip home another memory blur....and now, embedded here at 540 Highway One, with yoga pants, and electronic devices aplenty, the healing shall begin...I appreciate your love and good thoughts from afar, and look forward to seeing everyone with a really spectacular new rack.