Tag Archives: john

I Walk With One.

3 Aug

Hasta la vista, Righty.

Took the noon surgical appointment yesterday, instead of my tried-and-true 6am.  Bad call. Left a little too much time to fill. Took Xia to school (Discovery Tree, best ever), went to the grocery store, lifted too much (but we seemed a little past that point), and headed home.  Bad headache, took a few tylenol, and threw up a few times.  Not eating was not a problem.

Then John took me to the hospital to lose a breast.  Again.  How tired he must be. We sat in the corner, our “regular” seats. With the air vent on full tilt, the two TVs blaring and the other waiting room waiters chatting, I folded over in my chair and put my forehead on John’s legs in front of me. And that’s how we stayed until the nurse came to get us 30 minutes later.

I’ve got Pre-Op down, amigos. They just copy my chart from last time and off we go. Lynn, Bonnie, you are both lovely.  Thank you. Nurses rock.  Dr. C., your anesthesia is, I’m sure, the bomb.  But it’s your humanness I like the most.  When they wheeled me into the OR, I was trying very hard to be a grown-up, and said, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”  Dr. C said, “Rebecca, with what you’ve been through, I’d cry too.” Thanks Dr. C.

And then I was out.

At home, John set me up with Saltines, Susan sent pizza our way (after hosting Xia for a swim date), and Dawn dropped off ginger ale and my favorite cookies. Yum.  While I was out, Xia drew a collage of a school bus, a fire truck, a train, Dora, and the featured piece, President Obama.  Then he taped it to his bedroom door.  That made me laugh.  For those of you who know my husband, you are laughing, too.  If you had told me a few years ago that John would let a picture of a Democrat hang in our home, I would have suggested you consider a crack pipe intervention.

Today, I feel better. I am trying to ignore that Right Drain is back. Instead, I am thinking of the endless t-shirts I can make for the walk:   I Walk With ONE.   Reconstruction Zone.  I’m a Little Lopsided.  Or how about my new friend, Mastectomy Barbi, screened onto a T?  Too much?