They told me to be at outpatient surgery by 9:00, and Janie picked me up at my house at 8:30, and we got all checked in and were sent to a room to wait. And we waited and waited and waited. My surgeon was helping another surgeon this morning, and then he had two small surgical procedures himself before mine. Keep in mind that I had been NPO since midnight, and lunch came and went, and Tracy D. brought Janie a burger so she wouldn't starve. After all, there are are many things we will do for our friends, but sustenance makes them easier.
We had a nice visit with my outpatient nurse, and she brought me some of their hand-outs on oncology. Sweet and helpful people all around. The silly IV fluids caused me to have to get up and pee three times before they finally took me down, and I will probably be going all evening!
I had a nice visit with the surgeon and the nurses prior to the procedure, and it almost felt as if these people had become more than my medical care providers, they were more like friends. I was lying there in the operating room, and I just said, "Thank you, guys." After a moment's pause, they replied that I was welcome. Maybe people don't tell them "thank you" or maybe I'm just strange. As I said thank you, I was overwhelmed at the army of believers, medical care providers, family, friends, so many people who have been coming to my rescue over the past weeks, and I was once again so humbled. I felt tears burning at the back of my eyes and that tight, ver clempt feeling at the back of my throat, and I didn't want to have a cancer cry in front of the surgery team, so I just shut my eyes. I figured if they saw tears, they might just give me more medication!
I was only IV sedated, so I heard just about everything, and it didn't make me talk crazy during recovery. Sorry folks, but there are enough stories from my breast surgery to last for years!
Now the port is in my chest, and apparently I can't feel it much because I'm sitting here typing and it's not bothering me. I think the feeling will be back soon, and I probably need to rest a bit. And they prescribed Vicodin for pain that I might experience from it, but I'm just not feeling that kind of pain or discomfort.
I truly don't like having something foreign like this in my body, yet I know it will help me for potentially years to come. Other cancer patients aross the world, this country, this state, this city and this town have ports. I've neglected those people, and I hate that. One of my goals is to get better so I can minister to cancer patients in a better way. Simple things make the difference--someone gave Barry some homemade snacks for him to have in the aftenoons when he comes in from school, and that person knew I might not feel like baking. So thoughtful. Many small blessings have come our way, and that's what it's all about. The little things matter.
Thank you for praying me through this step of my survival journey.
My next "hurdle" is to see if I can make it through the Marion Volleyball game on Thursday when they honor a breast cancer survivor during their halftime. I'm it this year, and seriously, I cry during Happy Bithday", "The Star Spangled Banner" and when I see bands playing in a parade. I'll probably be an absolute basket case at the ballgame, so be thinking about me and praying that I can keep my composure. I have a cool "Fight for the Cure" shirt to wear that says, "Fight Like a Girl"! I lift up these young women as they play a part in helping toward finding a cure for breast cancer.
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