This will be my last post on cancer. I no longer have it. This part of my life is over. Ovah! Forevah! This post is full of graphic information, so if you want all the details, read on. If you don't need the play-by-play, just know that I am cured of cancer, and that's all you really need to know.
I had my radical hysterectomy on December 18th. It was a six-plus hour operation that I awoke from around 9 p.m. I was petrified about deep vein thrombosis, a blood clot that occurs after surgeries and can kill. Since I had a stroke less than four years ago, I was at increase risk for blood clots. Yeah! So, after one night lying down, I was up and around the next morning. After being instructed on foley care and Lovenox injections (again), and a screw up about visiting nurse service, I was discharged. For those of you who don't know, a foley is a tube inside your bladder that leads to a bag that collects your urine. Or, at least, that's the idea, but sometimes is doesn't work as expected and pee ends up on the living room floor, or so I am told. One excruciatingly bumpy car trip home, and I've been recovering ever since.
A week and a day after the surgery, the foley was removed. One day after the foley was taken out, I started leaking. Gushing, actually. It started on a Thursday, but not in full force. It was just a sneak peak; not the full package. Friday, around 4 p.m., was when it began to pour. I remember the time exactly, because Mr. Murphy made sure that the serious issue began precisely when my onocologist left for the weekend. So, I had to wait until Monday to see the doctor. She told me it wasn't urine, which was good, because the idea of peeing oneself, even after a surgery, is disturbing. During this doctor visit, she gave me the results of pathology: no signs of cancer in the lymph nodes. I was cancer-free.
The gushing lasted for one week exactly. It was either lymphatic or peritoneal fluid. We will never know for sure which, since it ended before I could get my urogram CT scan. So that's the whole dramatic tale. I was aware that I had cancer for two and a half months. I went from the sinking feeling when the doctor who performed the biopsy needed me to come into the office for the results (uh-oh), to morbidity, to relief in less than three months. So it's been another crazy emotional ride.
I made a promise to my daughter that if the surgery was successful and I was cancer-free, that we would get her a pet mouse. So, a week ago, we went to Pet Palace and welcomed two new white mice into our home. The sequence of pictures I took with her and one of her mice is so joy-filled, it really was the capping event of blessedly happy news. Now, hopefully the tumor-prone mice will stay cancer-free!
Watson Mill - corner cupboard and tea trolley
17 hours ago