Nov 3, 2014
Exactly one week after surgery, my left (non-canser) drain was ready to come out. My right side wasn't quite ready yet, but that Thursday was tough cause I was just so sick of the house and wearing button up shirts and being careful not to tug the drains (or pull them out- NOT an entertaining idea!!). I needed something to help me feel like I was taking a step forward, and even just removing one drain would help. Phil was home too so he could drive me as I wasn't up to driving just yet...
No one had really told me about their "removing the drains" story. I didn't ask on purpose. I had to go to the breast clinic and a nurse would remove them. I kept some Percocet (painkillers) just incase. "It's nothing" they say. "Just pulls a bit" I'm told (by the people doing the pulling may I add). This canser journey has taught me that although nurses & doctors are generally right, when it comes to pain, or side effects you gotta take what they say with a grain of salt...I've learnt that "rare" isn't all that rare when it comes to drugs or procedures.
So I was a little apprehensive when we arrived for my 'drain removal' appointment. And maybe a little emotional cause I was once again facing an 'unknown'. And something that may hurt.
Yes, I know I've been through chemo. I've been through surgery.
But it doesn't mean at any given moment I want to feel pain...
During chemo, I was poked with needles a minimum of 16 times. (that's not including the few times they couldn't hit the vein or hit a valve). I had many needle pokes the month before chemo started - with almost every test they needed to do - and have had numerous pokes before surgery...and since surgery!
After the last 7 months, I'd be good without getting another needle ever again.
So the prospect of going in to get something removed that is sutured to your skin - and also inserted under your skin - without painkillers (or a whole tube of EMLA cream lol) wasn't high on my list of fun things to do.
But like everything else I've been through, many women before me went through this procedure. I wasn't the first, and sadly not the last. So I'd just have to suck it up.
The nurse was awesome. She took me to a room at the back of the clinic and closed the door. I was able to just pull my tank top down as opposed to having to put on one of those lovely gowns. She told me to lay back on the bed and that she wouldn't do anything without telling me what she would do first.
OK.
Heart was beating pretty fast by now.
She looked at my drain, and noticed the clear tape that the nurse from the hospital had covered the site with. "I've never seen it covered like that before. They should have air at the site".
Heart rate up a little more.
She - VERY GENTLY - removed the tape. So far so good. That wasn't scary or painful. I took a deep breath. I think my whole body was in fight or flight mode. It was a bit hard to relax.
As she was opening her little sterile kit and explaining what would happen, my eyes welled up with tears.
"Will it hurt?" I asked fearfully when she got to the part about 'pulling the tube out'.
"No, it might burn a bit but it shouldn't hurt".
I felt a bit better. She was very compassionate and touched my arm till I was less scared. I could tell she didn't want to hurt me and didn't want me to feel so scared. That made a huge difference - she gained my trust in those moments.
"First I"m going to just clean around the site. It's gonna feel cold but it won't hurt".
OK. She was right.
"Now I'm going to cut the sutures. There are 2 - one on each side of the drain. It won't hurt." She had tiny scissors. Right again - no pain.
"Now I'll just pull the sutures out - you may feel some tugging, but it shouldn't hurt. Are you OK so far?"
"Yes, go ahead." And I meant it.
No pain. Maybe I relaxed a tiny bit.
But now came the main event.
"OK, so on the count of 3, I'm going to quickly pull it out."
Oh man, breathe, breathe...
She had gained my trust though, so I put my faith in her and took another deep breath as she counted to 3. On 3 she pulled about a foot's worth of drain out!!
Holy cow was that whole thing in me???
It didn't hurt at all! I was so giddy I could've danced a jig!! Except she was disinfecting again and I think it would have been frowned upon lol. While we were there I asked if she could check my right drain. It was really tender and a bit pink around the hole the drain was coming out of . She removed the tape that shouldn't have been there, cleaned it all around and assured me it looked fine.
"It can get tender by the drain site - just keep an eye on it and if it gets worse come back".
The liquid coming out of that side didn't smell bad or look "milky" so I felt alot better leaving.
A few hours later I was amazed how great it felt to be drain free on one side!! I couldn't wait to get the other side out. Phil and I figured probably not till Monday.
But at least 1 was out!! I slept well that night. And then morning came.
I woke up in pain.
ALOT OF PAIN.
My right side really hurt and I was stiff. Getting out of bed hurt. I thought maybe all the walking to the clinic the day before had just left me sore.
And then I walked to the bathroom...that was worse than getting out of bed.
Man, why does it hurt so bad? And I am so exhausted. Maybe I didn't sleep as well as I thought...
When Phil got up to shower he looked at the drain site - and noticed there was some green goop on the outside of the tube at the site.
I panicked a bit.
But the liquid in the tube was fine. Phil decided to take a q-tip and with a bit of water, just gently wipe away the green stuff so it wasn't against my skin, festering all day.
I thought I was going to be sick from the pain of the gentle touch with the q-tip.
"Call the clinic when it opens and see what they say".
OK.
In the meantime, I took a painkiller. That is the first time I had to take one in the morning for a few days.
I stayed in bed long after he and the kids left. He was worried cause I was still in bed, and in so much pain. And alone. My mom came over and I was still in bed. Phil was happy she came over. I felt wretched.
I called and made an appointment for 1PM when my mom could take me up. The liquid was below 25ml so the drain was ready to come out.
Nurse (when I called) : "Oh and don't worry about the green - some of the stuff that can leak out from the site can turn yellow or green from the air - doesn't mean its an issue".
OK.
After that call, and with my mom's help I thought I should get dressed. Figured it was a good time to check the incision.
I lifted up my camisole and almost passed out at the site that greeted me.
There was a large, hand sized dark red patch under my incision on the side the drain was. I knew right away something was wrong. So did my mom. I snapped a pic and sent it to Phil.
By this point the painkiller had kicked in for a while but I still felt bad. And I had zero energy. I could barely keep my eyes open.
By the time my mom came back from her nail appointment (she was leaving on a cruise the next day...) to get me, I was dressed and we left right away. I barely spoke all the way up there. I was so tired.
We got up and got another nurse for the drain removal. I was nervous. If a q-tip had almost made me sick, how bad would removing the drain feel??? I had taken another painkiller an hour or so before but still....
For some reason the thought of throwing up in that little room horrified me. I was even more nervous than the previous day. This nurse, a different one from yesterday, named Maureen, took me to a different little room, similar to the one I had been in. She agreed right away that the red patch wasn't good (but not in a way that scared me).
She had a different way to remove the sutures which wasn't painful either. One step down. When it came time to pull the drain, I don't know who was more nervous - me or my nurse! She looked at me laying there and asked "are you ready?".
"Ya, just do it".
As she quickly pulled it out, I felt a little burning this time (kinda like when you put alcohol in a cut but less painful) but that was all. I don't even think I had the energy to be relieved. I was already worrying about what was to be done for that red patch. It was Halloween. I wanted to be home with my kids that night. It was 1:30PM.
She brought in the nurse I saw the day before and she also agreed it didn't look at all like that the previous day. So there we were. I was hopped up on drugs, and a bit foggy, and all the doctors that had been there earlier were gone for the day (to get ready to go out with their kids maybe??). And both nurses definitely wanted me to be checked.
"Well, we think you should go to Rockyview. Not a clinic. Urgent care would work, but we really think Rockyview is your best bet. They have the resources incase you need IV antibiotics and they are familiar with Dr Austen (my Kinda Handsome Surgeon)".
So Rockyview it is. Off we went. Anxiety and sadness both had equal parts of my heart...I could feel a pity party coming on.
Luckily we got signed in and my name called within the first 20-30 minutes. We were taken to another waiting area in the back. I think I thanked my mom for the 10th time for being with me the whole day. I was freaked out.
Finally they called my name and we got to sit on a bed behind a curtain. And wait. A nurse came in and checked all my vitals. The doctor came in a little while later. He took one look and said "yup, that's an infection. Oral antibiotics won't do anything at this point. We are going to give you a round of IV antibiotics now and then you'll need another round at 11pm tonight".
My heart was about to break. My mom took one look at me then asked "she can leave and come back for the 11pm dose, or needs to stay here till 11pm? She's concerned about going out with the kids tonight".
"No, no she can just come back at 11PM."
Silver Lining. I wouldn't miss Halloween! Although I had initially planned on going out with the kids, and now that wasn't going to happen. My mom made sure - "You are NOT going out tonight. You need to rest". For once I didn't argue. I barely had the energy to talk, let alone walk around for a few hours. But at least I would see them all dressed up and see them when they came home. I wasn't completely missing Halloween...I could live with that. I hoped my kids could...I had tried so hard to not have anything canser related interrupt anything special like holidays or birthdays etc.
The nurse gave me my IV (in my hand - fun fun), hooked up the bag and brought my pole back to the waiting area (not when you come in, the one near the bed I was just at) and me and my Mom just sat and chatted a bit while my fist dose of antibiotics dripped into my veins. I was still exhausted but happy something was being done to fix the issue. This wasn't how I envisioned post surgery to go though...I didn't want any complications. The nurse told me they booked me into an outpatient clinic for 8:30AM the next morning where they may decide to send me home with IV antibiotics. She told me the doc would have everything ordred so when I came back at 11pm tonight, I could just go to Emerg and they would bring me back to where I was right now.
Ok.
Once my machine beeped (same as my chemo machine!) she disconnected me from the tube, and left the IV in my hand, so I wouldn't have to be poked every time. Thank God.
Then we left. It was after 4PM by this time. My in laws were coming over to help Phil take the kids out and my Mom wanted to see the kids too and make sure I was all settled before she left. I got home, ate a bit of soup that my mom made me (everyone else had pizza but I had hardly any appetite) and then I sat on the couch. I stayed there till we left at just after 10 to go back to the hospital. I tried to not take any more painkillers, but I got all flushed with fever, so thought I better not mess around. I slept almost the whole time till it was time to go.
When we got back to Emergency, they didn't have the order on file. I was brought back within 20 minutes or so but had to wait to see the doc so he could confirm the order. I didn't get my next dose until 11:30 because of this. I guess the doc from earlier had forgot to put the order in for me. Once I was hooked up I was done within about 45 minutes. We headed home to get a few winks before we had to be up early to drop the kids off at my in laws so we could go to the outpatient clinic.
As we made our way to the clinic the next morning (which is in Rockyview hospital) I was worried. What if the antibiotics didn't work? It looked just as "angry" in the morning, after 2 rounds of IV antibiotics. Would I get through all the canser stuff only to be taken by a stupid infection?? I was really, really anxious about this for some reason.
We found the clinic and got there with a few minutes to spare. The nurse who checked me over and got all my info was very very nice. She seemed horrified as I went through the quick history of the last few months. I wasn't playing the canser card, but she seemed determined that I wouldn't go through any more bad stuff while under her watch. Her determination made me feel better.
"So, is it really bad?".
"Well, you've definitely got something going on, but we see this kind of thing all the time. The doctor will be in and we'll get you all fixed up. Don't worry".
She actually helped to put me at ease. I have been so blessed by having the absolute best nurses (maybe there's no other kind!).
The Doc came in shortly after, checked me over, and said I was to go on IV antibiotics until Monday. Because I appeared to have tolerated the drugs from the previous 2 doses he would continue with that broad-spectrum antibiotics. Then come back in to get re-assessed Monday. My nurse re-appeared and said I was to come with her to get all set up for my IV and the little machine that would administer the doses over the next few days. After watching a little how-to video on how the machine worked and how to change the bag (I would get a new IV bag delivered that night to the house!) Phil and I were told to watch the red patch and come back if it started to get worse at all. The idea that the antibiotics weren't 100% guaranteed to work (that's what I heard from that lol) scared the daylights out of me. Looking at my chest below my incision all I could think was "if they don't work what else can they cut out?? It's flat and I can feel my ribs...there is nothing else to remove!".
I tried to push these fears down as we left the hospital.
When I got home, I went straight to the couch. The doorbell rang and we thought it was my antibiotics replacement bag, but it was actually flowers delivered from my good friend Fiona. What a wonderful surprise!! They certainly perked me up! An hour or so later my antibiotics showed up as promised.
The rest of the weekend I basically spent in the house, mostly on the couch. At least by Sunday it seemed to be less red, and I had more energy so I hoped that was a good sign. I certainly was buoyed. In hindsight I was in pretty rough shape on Friday. So in comparison to that at least I was miles ahead. Phil was getting better and better at being my nurse - he changed my antibiotics bag in 5 minutes without issue.
Phil was home on Monday so he could take me to my appointment that morning to see how I was healing. We saw the same nurse from Saturday, and she agreed it looked "much better!". I felt happy she also saw the progress. It was a different doctor on call that day, but I had made sure to take pics from Saturday till Monday so he could see the progress, cause although it was less angry, it was still pink. But the antibiotics were for sure working.
A (very young) medical student came in and we chatted. He seemed awestruck by my canser story. I wasn't trying to impress anyone or make anyone feel bad for me - it's just my history to me, not a sad tale. But I guess to those who don't deal with the canser world all the time, they couldn't believe that a young woman with 2 little kids had been through chemo and surgery and now were at their doorstep. I felt like a rare species and this was his opportunity to ask all kinds of questions. He even checked my lymph nodes - which to be honest scared me a bit cause I was worried they had reason to think canser had come back....I still had not received my surgery pathology, so really anything was possible. But I think he was just curious...and VERY green as a medical student, esp when dealing with a canser patient.
Thankfully the doctor he was working with was not interested in my canser story, as it did not pertain to the present situation. He was jovial, kind and very well dressed. After examining me, he got right to the point. He could put me on oral antibiotics and was fairly sure they would work no issue. But if I stayed on IV antibiotics, I would heal faster. It was up to me - if the IV was unbearable, I could get rid of it.
My only focus was to get rid of the infection. If it meant a few more days of IV antibiotics, I was more than happy to comply. There was emotion starting to simmer underneath my calm exterior but I pushed it down. I had to keep my eye on the prize.
So we left with more IV antibiotics and were asked to come back on Wednesday. Phil had to work the rest of the week, so his Dad decided to take Tues to Friday off and come hang out with me, and said he could take me on Wednesday to my appointment. Ya, I was blown away! What an incredibly kind thing to do. I think he's my Mom's new favourite person as she was worried I would be on my own and helpless that week while she was gone lol.
Otherwise I would have been alone...all week long.
When everything caught up to me....
Exactly one week after surgery, my left (non-canser) drain was ready to come out. My right side wasn't quite ready yet, but that Thursday was tough cause I was just so sick of the house and wearing button up shirts and being careful not to tug the drains (or pull them out- NOT an entertaining idea!!). I needed something to help me feel like I was taking a step forward, and even just removing one drain would help. Phil was home too so he could drive me as I wasn't up to driving just yet...
No one had really told me about their "removing the drains" story. I didn't ask on purpose. I had to go to the breast clinic and a nurse would remove them. I kept some Percocet (painkillers) just incase. "It's nothing" they say. "Just pulls a bit" I'm told (by the people doing the pulling may I add). This canser journey has taught me that although nurses & doctors are generally right, when it comes to pain, or side effects you gotta take what they say with a grain of salt...I've learnt that "rare" isn't all that rare when it comes to drugs or procedures.
So I was a little apprehensive when we arrived for my 'drain removal' appointment. And maybe a little emotional cause I was once again facing an 'unknown'. And something that may hurt.
Yes, I know I've been through chemo. I've been through surgery.
But it doesn't mean at any given moment I want to feel pain...
During chemo, I was poked with needles a minimum of 16 times. (that's not including the few times they couldn't hit the vein or hit a valve). I had many needle pokes the month before chemo started - with almost every test they needed to do - and have had numerous pokes before surgery...and since surgery!
After the last 7 months, I'd be good without getting another needle ever again.
So the prospect of going in to get something removed that is sutured to your skin - and also inserted under your skin - without painkillers (or a whole tube of EMLA cream lol) wasn't high on my list of fun things to do.
But like everything else I've been through, many women before me went through this procedure. I wasn't the first, and sadly not the last. So I'd just have to suck it up.
The nurse was awesome. She took me to a room at the back of the clinic and closed the door. I was able to just pull my tank top down as opposed to having to put on one of those lovely gowns. She told me to lay back on the bed and that she wouldn't do anything without telling me what she would do first.
OK.
Heart was beating pretty fast by now.
She looked at my drain, and noticed the clear tape that the nurse from the hospital had covered the site with. "I've never seen it covered like that before. They should have air at the site".
Heart rate up a little more.
She - VERY GENTLY - removed the tape. So far so good. That wasn't scary or painful. I took a deep breath. I think my whole body was in fight or flight mode. It was a bit hard to relax.
As she was opening her little sterile kit and explaining what would happen, my eyes welled up with tears.
"Will it hurt?" I asked fearfully when she got to the part about 'pulling the tube out'.
"No, it might burn a bit but it shouldn't hurt".
I felt a bit better. She was very compassionate and touched my arm till I was less scared. I could tell she didn't want to hurt me and didn't want me to feel so scared. That made a huge difference - she gained my trust in those moments.
"First I"m going to just clean around the site. It's gonna feel cold but it won't hurt".
OK. She was right.
"Now I'm going to cut the sutures. There are 2 - one on each side of the drain. It won't hurt." She had tiny scissors. Right again - no pain.
"Now I'll just pull the sutures out - you may feel some tugging, but it shouldn't hurt. Are you OK so far?"
"Yes, go ahead." And I meant it.
No pain. Maybe I relaxed a tiny bit.
But now came the main event.
"OK, so on the count of 3, I'm going to quickly pull it out."
Oh man, breathe, breathe...
She had gained my trust though, so I put my faith in her and took another deep breath as she counted to 3. On 3 she pulled about a foot's worth of drain out!!
Holy cow was that whole thing in me???
It didn't hurt at all! I was so giddy I could've danced a jig!! Except she was disinfecting again and I think it would have been frowned upon lol. While we were there I asked if she could check my right drain. It was really tender and a bit pink around the hole the drain was coming out of . She removed the tape that shouldn't have been there, cleaned it all around and assured me it looked fine.
"It can get tender by the drain site - just keep an eye on it and if it gets worse come back".
The liquid coming out of that side didn't smell bad or look "milky" so I felt alot better leaving.
A few hours later I was amazed how great it felt to be drain free on one side!! I couldn't wait to get the other side out. Phil and I figured probably not till Monday.
But at least 1 was out!! I slept well that night. And then morning came.
I woke up in pain.
ALOT OF PAIN.
My right side really hurt and I was stiff. Getting out of bed hurt. I thought maybe all the walking to the clinic the day before had just left me sore.
And then I walked to the bathroom...that was worse than getting out of bed.
Man, why does it hurt so bad? And I am so exhausted. Maybe I didn't sleep as well as I thought...
When Phil got up to shower he looked at the drain site - and noticed there was some green goop on the outside of the tube at the site.
I panicked a bit.
But the liquid in the tube was fine. Phil decided to take a q-tip and with a bit of water, just gently wipe away the green stuff so it wasn't against my skin, festering all day.
I thought I was going to be sick from the pain of the gentle touch with the q-tip.
"Call the clinic when it opens and see what they say".
OK.
In the meantime, I took a painkiller. That is the first time I had to take one in the morning for a few days.
I stayed in bed long after he and the kids left. He was worried cause I was still in bed, and in so much pain. And alone. My mom came over and I was still in bed. Phil was happy she came over. I felt wretched.
I called and made an appointment for 1PM when my mom could take me up. The liquid was below 25ml so the drain was ready to come out.
Nurse (when I called) : "Oh and don't worry about the green - some of the stuff that can leak out from the site can turn yellow or green from the air - doesn't mean its an issue".
OK.
After that call, and with my mom's help I thought I should get dressed. Figured it was a good time to check the incision.
I lifted up my camisole and almost passed out at the site that greeted me.
There was a large, hand sized dark red patch under my incision on the side the drain was. I knew right away something was wrong. So did my mom. I snapped a pic and sent it to Phil.
By this point the painkiller had kicked in for a while but I still felt bad. And I had zero energy. I could barely keep my eyes open.
By the time my mom came back from her nail appointment (she was leaving on a cruise the next day...) to get me, I was dressed and we left right away. I barely spoke all the way up there. I was so tired.
We got up and got another nurse for the drain removal. I was nervous. If a q-tip had almost made me sick, how bad would removing the drain feel??? I had taken another painkiller an hour or so before but still....
For some reason the thought of throwing up in that little room horrified me. I was even more nervous than the previous day. This nurse, a different one from yesterday, named Maureen, took me to a different little room, similar to the one I had been in. She agreed right away that the red patch wasn't good (but not in a way that scared me).
She had a different way to remove the sutures which wasn't painful either. One step down. When it came time to pull the drain, I don't know who was more nervous - me or my nurse! She looked at me laying there and asked "are you ready?".
"Ya, just do it".
As she quickly pulled it out, I felt a little burning this time (kinda like when you put alcohol in a cut but less painful) but that was all. I don't even think I had the energy to be relieved. I was already worrying about what was to be done for that red patch. It was Halloween. I wanted to be home with my kids that night. It was 1:30PM.
She brought in the nurse I saw the day before and she also agreed it didn't look at all like that the previous day. So there we were. I was hopped up on drugs, and a bit foggy, and all the doctors that had been there earlier were gone for the day (to get ready to go out with their kids maybe??). And both nurses definitely wanted me to be checked.
"Well, we think you should go to Rockyview. Not a clinic. Urgent care would work, but we really think Rockyview is your best bet. They have the resources incase you need IV antibiotics and they are familiar with Dr Austen (my Kinda Handsome Surgeon)".
So Rockyview it is. Off we went. Anxiety and sadness both had equal parts of my heart...I could feel a pity party coming on.
Finally they called my name and we got to sit on a bed behind a curtain. And wait. A nurse came in and checked all my vitals. The doctor came in a little while later. He took one look and said "yup, that's an infection. Oral antibiotics won't do anything at this point. We are going to give you a round of IV antibiotics now and then you'll need another round at 11pm tonight".
"No, no she can just come back at 11PM."
Silver Lining. I wouldn't miss Halloween! Although I had initially planned on going out with the kids, and now that wasn't going to happen. My mom made sure - "You are NOT going out tonight. You need to rest". For once I didn't argue. I barely had the energy to talk, let alone walk around for a few hours. But at least I would see them all dressed up and see them when they came home. I wasn't completely missing Halloween...I could live with that. I hoped my kids could...I had tried so hard to not have anything canser related interrupt anything special like holidays or birthdays etc.
Ok.
Once my machine beeped (same as my chemo machine!) she disconnected me from the tube, and left the IV in my hand, so I wouldn't have to be poked every time. Thank God.
Then we left. It was after 4PM by this time. My in laws were coming over to help Phil take the kids out and my Mom wanted to see the kids too and make sure I was all settled before she left. I got home, ate a bit of soup that my mom made me (everyone else had pizza but I had hardly any appetite) and then I sat on the couch. I stayed there till we left at just after 10 to go back to the hospital. I tried to not take any more painkillers, but I got all flushed with fever, so thought I better not mess around. I slept almost the whole time till it was time to go.
When we got back to Emergency, they didn't have the order on file. I was brought back within 20 minutes or so but had to wait to see the doc so he could confirm the order. I didn't get my next dose until 11:30 because of this. I guess the doc from earlier had forgot to put the order in for me. Once I was hooked up I was done within about 45 minutes. We headed home to get a few winks before we had to be up early to drop the kids off at my in laws so we could go to the outpatient clinic.
As we made our way to the clinic the next morning (which is in Rockyview hospital) I was worried. What if the antibiotics didn't work? It looked just as "angry" in the morning, after 2 rounds of IV antibiotics. Would I get through all the canser stuff only to be taken by a stupid infection?? I was really, really anxious about this for some reason.
We found the clinic and got there with a few minutes to spare. The nurse who checked me over and got all my info was very very nice. She seemed horrified as I went through the quick history of the last few months. I wasn't playing the canser card, but she seemed determined that I wouldn't go through any more bad stuff while under her watch. Her determination made me feel better.
"So, is it really bad?".
"Well, you've definitely got something going on, but we see this kind of thing all the time. The doctor will be in and we'll get you all fixed up. Don't worry".
She actually helped to put me at ease. I have been so blessed by having the absolute best nurses (maybe there's no other kind!).
I tried to push these fears down as we left the hospital.
The rest of the weekend I basically spent in the house, mostly on the couch. At least by Sunday it seemed to be less red, and I had more energy so I hoped that was a good sign. I certainly was buoyed. In hindsight I was in pretty rough shape on Friday. So in comparison to that at least I was miles ahead. Phil was getting better and better at being my nurse - he changed my antibiotics bag in 5 minutes without issue.
Phil was home on Monday so he could take me to my appointment that morning to see how I was healing. We saw the same nurse from Saturday, and she agreed it looked "much better!". I felt happy she also saw the progress. It was a different doctor on call that day, but I had made sure to take pics from Saturday till Monday so he could see the progress, cause although it was less angry, it was still pink. But the antibiotics were for sure working.
A (very young) medical student came in and we chatted. He seemed awestruck by my canser story. I wasn't trying to impress anyone or make anyone feel bad for me - it's just my history to me, not a sad tale. But I guess to those who don't deal with the canser world all the time, they couldn't believe that a young woman with 2 little kids had been through chemo and surgery and now were at their doorstep. I felt like a rare species and this was his opportunity to ask all kinds of questions. He even checked my lymph nodes - which to be honest scared me a bit cause I was worried they had reason to think canser had come back....I still had not received my surgery pathology, so really anything was possible. But I think he was just curious...and VERY green as a medical student, esp when dealing with a canser patient.
Thankfully the doctor he was working with was not interested in my canser story, as it did not pertain to the present situation. He was jovial, kind and very well dressed. After examining me, he got right to the point. He could put me on oral antibiotics and was fairly sure they would work no issue. But if I stayed on IV antibiotics, I would heal faster. It was up to me - if the IV was unbearable, I could get rid of it.
My only focus was to get rid of the infection. If it meant a few more days of IV antibiotics, I was more than happy to comply. There was emotion starting to simmer underneath my calm exterior but I pushed it down. I had to keep my eye on the prize.
So we left with more IV antibiotics and were asked to come back on Wednesday. Phil had to work the rest of the week, so his Dad decided to take Tues to Friday off and come hang out with me, and said he could take me on Wednesday to my appointment. Ya, I was blown away! What an incredibly kind thing to do. I think he's my Mom's new favourite person as she was worried I would be on my own and helpless that week while she was gone lol.
Otherwise I would have been alone...all week long.
When everything caught up to me....
C. S. Lewis is one of my favorite authors, but, apparently, did not write "What saves a man is to take a step..." Antoine de Saint-Exupery did, in "Wind, Sands and Stars," page 38 on Google Books, at least in the translation by Lewis Galantiere. Attribution to C. S. Lewis appears to be a common misconception, according to a credible analysis by William O'Flaherty, in his "The Misquotable C. S. Lewis," pages 54-55, again on Google Books. Thought you may like to know, and thanks for reading this.
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