Update: Good, but Cautious


Meant to write yesterday, but just couldn’t seem to get to it. I felt much better than Saturday when I seemed to sink into aches and sluggishness. Being taped up with pads and the surgical (aka sports) bra had made me feel like I couldn’t relax for fear of popping a stitch or two. So my shoulders, neck and the spot between my shoulderblades were just screaming. I tried some yoga moves, some breathing, some Yamuna ball rolling on my back. Steve massaged them and I pulled out the hotpad to help. At the same time I’m using ice to keep swelling down. Alternate, alternate.


Sunday I woke up ready to roll. Steve and I walked Fozzy up to Cheney Trail and I felt fine. Couldn’t get that far Saturday without feeling dizzy. I have managed to wash my hair every day, and even refresh the color, even though I couldn’t shower. If my hair is clean I can tolerate a lot. As soon as it feels the least bit oily I’m scratching at the shampoo. Sunday was a little tough because I felt good and wanted to do things. Of course, at this stage, you have to keep the activity down. I can walk a bit, putter a bit, but nothing strenuous. And it’s funny what becomes strenuous. Laundry has to be done in small batches. Bending over is out, knee bending is in. Opening sticky windows is out. Asking for help is in. Way in. Thank God for Maria my amazing housekeeper.

I’ve had to get used to sleeping on my back, and only my back, semi sitting up. This is not my favorite thing.  Lunesta, however, is a lovely thing that overcomes all. I’ve been drinking so much iced tea I’ve had to get up several times a night to take care of that, but fell right to sleep again. Last night I didn’t wake up once. All of a sudden it was 6am. Heaven.


Today I feel great. Saw the nurse and she removed the drains, or grenades as we began to call them. The tubes end in a plastic pouch that looks like a grenade, and these were pinned to my shirt or pants. I never did come to name them anything in particular, I just wanted them to go away. As thrilled as I was with this step, it wasn’t without some warning. The nurse chose her words carefully, so I would keep a positive attitude, but things aren’t healing as well as they could. “I see some areas are struggling to heal,” she said. So they’ll get some TLC this week, even some free time — no bra, no pads, just Vaseline and air. Can I tell you what a thrill that is after carrying around pounds of breasts for years? Talk about liberation! So I’m good, but cautious — and positive that all will heal. And on that note, I’m off to do some yoga and healing meditations.  Haven’t been doing as much as I need to. Ra ma da sa. Sat nam.


About writerphotodeb

With a name like writerphotodeb it's pretty obvious what I do. I've written more than 2,000 articles for magazines, newspapers, trade journals and websites. But I've developed my artistic interests and am having a great time participating in gallery shows, creating personalized fine art and photographing clients. Please visit www.tellingimages.com or www.debbiswansonpatrick.com and drop me a line.

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