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Six days and counting
Apr. 23rd, 2012 10:45 amI still touch my chest in wonder. Sometimes it is almost panicky, like oh my god my heart and lungs are just going to fall right out. I've learned I absolutely have to keep taking the drugs or I shake so badly because my body is still adjusting to having part of it cut off entirely. Surgical drains suck, but they are very valuable.
I think between the drains and the expensive crazy ass vitamin regime they put me on, my recovery is far easier than I could have possibly imagined. Literally, no bruising, very little swelling. I'm shocked. I expected to look like I went through a tiger fight.
My stitches itch. I know that means they are healing. But ugh. Yuck. Follow up on Wednesday to get the drains out (dude I'm scared that's going to hurt) and check stitches and stuff.
I've never realized how wide my hips are without my former tits in the way. Crazy.
Do you know how stupidly excited I am to exercise again one day? (Probably in about a month I can go back to seriously doing so, just waiting to hear what the doctor says on Wednesday.) I have never wanted to exercise before.
So I'm doing pretty okay. I honestly feel better than I did from any of the previous surgeries I had and Mike seems to think I seem less helpless and crazed as well. Mike told me I was being such a dude, trying to do stuff without asking for help and we laughed. (If you see Mike, buy him a beer.) When it gets bad, when it hurts or when I have a moment of panic, my best gamer friend reminds me this is what I want and to take the bitter with the sweet.
When Heather died in February, so many people said things about how she lived voraciously, without reservation. She saw things and she did them. I thought about that and her life a lot during the next month. I thought about how I didn't want to die without doing things that were important to me. So I did this and I'm going to make myself go out and do things that make me happy because there's so little time.
The postcards, the care packages, the LJ comments, the teamspeak chats - you have all kept me sane. I really can never thank you enough, friends. I'm totally not crying while I write this, not at all. It's just raining inside.
I'm really fucking happy, even when it hurts.
I think between the drains and the expensive crazy ass vitamin regime they put me on, my recovery is far easier than I could have possibly imagined. Literally, no bruising, very little swelling. I'm shocked. I expected to look like I went through a tiger fight.
My stitches itch. I know that means they are healing. But ugh. Yuck. Follow up on Wednesday to get the drains out (dude I'm scared that's going to hurt) and check stitches and stuff.
I've never realized how wide my hips are without my former tits in the way. Crazy.
Do you know how stupidly excited I am to exercise again one day? (Probably in about a month I can go back to seriously doing so, just waiting to hear what the doctor says on Wednesday.) I have never wanted to exercise before.
So I'm doing pretty okay. I honestly feel better than I did from any of the previous surgeries I had and Mike seems to think I seem less helpless and crazed as well. Mike told me I was being such a dude, trying to do stuff without asking for help and we laughed. (If you see Mike, buy him a beer.) When it gets bad, when it hurts or when I have a moment of panic, my best gamer friend reminds me this is what I want and to take the bitter with the sweet.
When Heather died in February, so many people said things about how she lived voraciously, without reservation. She saw things and she did them. I thought about that and her life a lot during the next month. I thought about how I didn't want to die without doing things that were important to me. So I did this and I'm going to make myself go out and do things that make me happy because there's so little time.
The postcards, the care packages, the LJ comments, the teamspeak chats - you have all kept me sane. I really can never thank you enough, friends. I'm totally not crying while I write this, not at all. It's just raining inside.
I'm really fucking happy, even when it hurts.