Home Sweet Home

So it's not exactly Grand Cayman, but then again, Gustav was not being all that inviting anyhow, so we're actually glad we are in recovery rather than some hurricane shelter. Not to mention, on this side of the cancer. Which is the kicking ass side, btw. Grand Cayman will have to wait, and I don't care if I ever see Gustav, or any of his relatives or copycats.

So we are home, thank God, and I am doing just peachy except for these drains that I do not like AT ALL and am counting down the days until Friday at 5:30p.m. when I get to have them removed. Really, most of the pain I am experiencing is due to them, and half of that is the pain in the rear kind. So it varies from 5-7, and the pain meds the kind Drs. gave me are helping me keep on top of that. Although I do feel the wear off about 1/2 an hour before it's actually time, which isn't the most fun I've had. My arms are very weak and sore, and my ribs feel like I got in a bar room brawl.

It is so good to be recovering at home. Dave and I have a pretty good groove at handling all the high maintenance of me, and he has been putting up with me pretty well, except for a few grumpy moments that I am trying to overlook since he has pretty much run himself into the ground worrying about me and taking care of me 24/7. I just wouldn't hire him as a personal trainer if I were you, because he is a bit snippy when you don't lift your arms as high as the doctor said to lift them and stuff like that. I've been teaching him about bedside manner and he has been a bit persistent in his high principles, and therefore resistant to my advice (read pleas for mercy) and so I really don't see that he has much of a future in the personal training business.

One of the best things about recovering at home, besides the RECOVERING part, is my sunroom, which we have been practically been living in (and just outside, I can hear my boys working on a path they are making for me, which leads to my tennis courts!). Not to mention my own bed. Not to mention the Tennis Channel and the ESPN during the U.S. Open. Not to mention my mum, sister, and nephew are here helping take care of me. Not to mention all the AMAZING food people are bringing us. (THANK YOU GOBS, btw!) My friend Lisa Dupps has already decided to move in so she can pull up a chair for our lovely meals in the sunroom.

The surgery was a smashing success. We are still awaiting the official results, but the doc said as far as she could see, the cancer had NOT spread to the lymph nodes and that we had therefore gotten ahead of it spreading, and are on top of it! THANK GOD!! From what I hear there was an awful lot of happy ruckus in the waiting room when she came to tell my peeps the news! I think they gave her a standing "O" which she totally deserved!

From what I understand, I was a wee bit more under during this procedure, so I guess I didn't have the op peeps in "stitches" like I did last time. I must have accidentally left my wit in my pre-op room. Sorry to disappoint on that front. But for all who were there, the kids' youth pastor, Alton, seemed to have picked it up and pocketed it, and left us all rotflol. And you can imagine how well this went over at Jewish Hospital.

Speaking of Jewish Hospital, which was a great hospital btw, but the main thing I noticed that was different from Good Samaritan, which is where I had the lumpectomy last week, was that the crucifixes at Good Sam were a comfort and a highlight, whereas they were obviously non-existent at Jewish. I'm not going to lie, that was a bit of a downer, but in the scheme of things, I thought they were just as Good Samaritans to take care of the Christ lover.

The only other downer in the whole experience, was the initial recovery room. It was packed, and my nurse also had the care of two other patients, one who was hurling in the bed right next to me (and I am a sympathetic vomiter), and the other was having some colo-rectal issues a few beds down, and so my need for ice chips or a kind face was understandably pretty low on the totem pole. Still this was the first time in this whole whirlwind that I cried. Over an ice chip. It took them an hour and a half from when they told me my room was ready, for them to be able to take me to it. I watched every movement of the hand of the clock, while praying the Lord's Prayer for an hour and a half solid, so I wouldn't hear the hurling sounds next to me. I tried to rotate in the Nicene Creed but I kept messing it up and got mad at myself about that and I didn't think that was very productive, so I just kept with the Lord's Prayer.

I think I was out of it most of the rest of the day, until my tennis buds brought me the most delightful cup of coffee in the whole wide world on the morning after (and a blueberry scone to boot). And then began my true road to recovery.

Dave was reading from a book called Won't Let You Go Unless You Bless Me by Andree Seu, the other night, and there was a line in it that we felt is a perfect sum up to this whirlwind we've been in: "Because of us the fear of the Lord has fallen on many." This has been our perspective and prayer.

Thanks for praying, and please don't stop.