It was a banner day today. I sort of bathed; Bob washed my hair in the kitchen sink, and I took a half-shower -- can't get the surgery area wet. I swabbed my lumpy armpits with witch hazel and called it good.
I took the bandages off. There was just some gauze covering the steri-strips (tape) holding the incision together. Then there was Saran Wrap on top of the gauze. (Not really Saran Wrap.) It all looks about how you’d expect.
Still no pain. When I reach for something, I might get a small "ping" along the incision. If I poke at the area, it feels oddly squishy, and in some places feels like they put in a layer of sculpting sand. The tissue responds in an odd way. I'm probably not supposed to poke it. When I move and bigger sections shift, or pieces unmoor from my pectorals (you don’t want the skin to adhere to the muscle), it’s an entirely alien feeling.
In the hospital, my nipples were itching something fierce. At that point, everything, nipples and all, were, I imagine, in a bucket sitting on Tim the pathologist’s desk. Because I’m sure that’s how it works – the pathologists get buckets of flesh delivered to their desks for them to dissect and examine. Boobs in a bucket. Probably.
Overall, I’m spending less time wondering if my breasts got accidentally kicked under the bed, because I quickly remember they’re in a bucket in Tim’s office.
I had Bob run down the events leading up to the operation. I remember getting to the hospital, and the flurry of pre-surgery prep. But sometime around when they gave me Versed to relax, I've got no memory. I'm pretty sure I didn't say goodbye to my breasts. But why would I? The relationship had become toxic, almost abusive. I don’t need to coddle my assassin.
Everything was monitored in the hospital, including how much I peed. There is a something called a urinary hat, which looks like a plastic top hat turned upside down, that rests on the rim of the toilet, collecting pee. I have bizarre pride in the fact that I filled that hat every time. Filled. To the brim. And as my body was flushing the blue dye used to find my sentinel lymph nodes, the blue mixed with yellow and made a truly beautiful shade of green. I filled that hat absolutely full of green pee many times. The nurses were shocked at my capacity. I’ve got the biggest tank this side of the Rio Grande. Yes, I do!
I also won the lung expansion contest. It’s strangely difficult to remember to fully inflate and deflate your lungs when you’re in the hospital with all sorts of things going on. This can lead to pneumonia. I was given a breath measurer thing. You take a huge breath, exhale it completely, and then basically suck on the measurer as the bar moves up and up. The farther up you make it go, the better. I won. Against everyone my nurse had ever seen do it, so probably millions of people. She said I did the best. And gave me a new aromatherapy sticker.