.......in your armpit. It's a thing. I have one. Because I am following the directions of my doctors and not lifting my arm at all. So of course. Of course. Because I need one more thing to make me feel like I will never get back to normalcy.
Also I can braid my leg hair. Because moving my arms like that to shave is also not allowed, so it cannot be a priority when trying to clean myself up. It's really kind of amazing how trying to return to normal is seemingly impossible when you can't do normal things. Small things. Like shave your legs. I will get there. I know, its just another lump in the road to recovery.
And I did get my drain out, last Friday, thankfully, before the weekend. I couldn't get an appointment with my regular office, so went across the hall to the same office but different nurses. I was, apparently, her fifth drain removal of the day. She was a nice nurse, who asked me a bunch of questions: How was Christmas? how many milliliters am I getting out of the drain? Have I had a drain before? She was pleased that it would not be my first drain pull (its literally what they call it, and is most accurate) but said she would explain everything as she was doing it so I would be prepared. She took the tape off very carefully - my skin really likes to hold onto tape. She swabbed the area, and cut the one stitch that was holding the plastic tube in the side of my body, under my armpit. She asked me to take a big deep breath in and...
zzzzzzzzziiiippppppp
DONE.
It did not really make a noise. And I couldn't really feel it. But it was uncomfortable afterward, mostly because I knew she PULLED IT OUT OF MY BODY. She had to hold a gauze there for a few minutes because the drainage was still leaking out a bit (yeah, its gross) and mentioned that I may have to change the bandage, but that the hole would close in about 48 hours (yeah, super gross).
But done. She congratulated me on following all the directions and wished me a speedy recovery. I appreciated her willingness to listen to me chat away (I really get nervous when it comes to the drain -its just one of those really icky things for me).
And I left. My dad drove me back home. I felt like I needed to celebrate, but also, that I just wasn't done yet. That I still had at least one more post-op appointment, and the next four weeks of not moving my left arm still.
Yes, Cancer free. But still.....a long road to recovery. And its still hard because even though I am cancer free, its a challenge to process everything as being over. Because I don't think it is. I don't think that people who have been through a cancer diagnosis (at whatever stage) are ever really DONE with having that diagnosis; we don't ever leave behind that pounding in the chest of hearing the words "its cancer"; the feeling of dread in wondering if its around the corner again; the guilt of not celebrating every second we are cancer free; the inability to put into words how it has changed us.
I finished watching Jane the Virgin (finally - I saved it for the second recovery) and for those of you who have been with me on this blog throughout this lump in the road, you know it was what got me through my first surgery recovery in July/August. I was sad to watch the last episodes, but it also reminded me that there are certain things that do get you through tough times, and in life, all things come to an end.
This isn't necessarily and end for me. In fact, I have been toying with the idea of making this blog into a book - it was suggested to me by my surgeon (and then at my second post-op after this recent surgery; her RN said to me "while I can't ask you to write a book, your voice would be so helpful to the women who are going through this and have no one to look to for the real journey." She said there are not any sources her patients can go to that are "real" and "raw" and "practical."
That same afternoon, a friend who had a similar but also not similar journey, pulled me aside and, with tears in her eyes, said that she read my blog and it took her back to her own diagnosis. Because what I wrote was so real. That she is not the type to go to support groups, and that she would've liked to read something like this when she went through her journey. I can honestly say I was deeply affected by this. Throughout this whole lump in the road, I have been saying to myself, "if me going through this and writing about this helps just one person....maybe its worth it." And maybe that's why this happened. I do not believe in destiny, and I likely won't ever believe in fate, but if something good can come out of something bad, who am I to stop it......
I can't promise anything will be published. But I can write. Something hits me everyday and I scribble it down. This may have been a lump in the road, but the journey has changed my life forever.
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