Thursday turned out to be a busy day: later, after the Chinese lady, the BSS came to see me and check my wound and 2 drains. I could expect to go home next week if the drains were doing their job properly. He asked if I had any questions. For some reason I felt too shy to ask for my " results" so said "what next?" This was enough for him to share the good news that all the cancer was taken with my breast, and the node was clear. I don't really know what I felt at the news - I think in retrospect it was a bit of doubt and distrust.
It seemed more real when I told the family at their visit, and it felt good and relieving to share the news, and more real. It is immensely uplifting to see people smile at good news. BSS had said he still strongly recommends Chemo, but I did have a choice. There was no doubt that I would take the chemo. In the early hours of the next morning, I dreamed that a car just missed me as I crossed the road. I actually felt the air rush past me, and woke up with a fright ! "dodged a bullet there!" I thought, and then realised what it meant. The last verse of Sara Groves song started to play in my head: "Alleluia, Alleluia, This Joy is in our hearts" and kept whirling in, on and off for the rest of the day.
After my assisted shower and a rest on Friday morning, I was given a cute little calico bag to discreetly carry my drains in, and encouraged to "go walkabout". Once my shaky cells felt manageable enough, I primped myself up to face the world of the hospital corridor. I left my room, and coming out of hers was the turquoise lady, so like genteel Jane Austen ladies, we "took a turn about the room". We looked very quaint with our Zonta half moon cushions under our arms and our calico bags. I was thrilled when she told me that when she came out of surgery, her sister was waiting for her, having flown in from the mainland to be with her. Thank God for sisters, and that she wasn't alone! Her sister was going to collect her later that day to take her home. I didn't see her again, and I hope all is well with her.
On Saturday afternoon my blow up legs came off. These were wrap around tubes that had air blown into them and released, every few seconds, non stop, massaging my legs. It was mostly quite soothing, but by Friday was starting to annoy, and scratch behind my knees. I was having heparin injections twice daily into my stomach, which was now dotted with bruises. I moved from having endone at night to Digesic. The helpful night nurse Heather saw me though a difficult night working on the restoration of bodily functions.
Being a FIM accredited assessor (Functional Independence Measure) I knew that I was coming closer to discharge, and that my Care Plan was on course.On Sunday my new doctor Herself, (BSS had taken off for a skiing holiday in Europe) arrived. One drain could be removed, and if not too much more drained into the other bag, I could have that out on Monday and Go Home. I visited the hospital chapel in my walkabout, and read the Bible opened at John 14, which includes "let not your heart be troubled" and "whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son" . I trembled back to bed, knowing that this is true, although on somethings I have asked for, I've been graciously assisted to wait, because, as you know, not everyone wants Him to intrude on their lives.
By 3 o'clock Monday, my drain was removed. This was a particularly steep but fast loop in the rollercoaster, and left me reeling, seeing stars and gasping for breath. By 4.30 I was Home, to be treated like a queen - mollycoddled and cosseted by a determined DH who was going to get my haemoglobin levels up. (the little squirter had caused them to drop close to the point of needing a transfusion, which was the reason for the shakiness).
The last loop on the rollercoaster involved the final battle with constipation. The wrapping of a feminine hygeine product (which has taken over from Chappies bubblegum in my education) reliably informs me that if a person's intestines were unravelled they would stretch around the globe. Effectively, 2 anesthetics unlooped my intestines and took them for a world tour. Poor things - they needed time to gather themselves , but DH (probably sick of my groaning) shocked them into action with an effective weapon from the pharmacist, and we won the war.
That sorted, I got off the rollercoaster. Now I'm ambling through the fairground, anticipating some new experiences, and reluctantly, I will have to visit the House of Horrors.
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