Coming out of post-surgery fog is so weird. I’m just starting to remember the last few days. One day, I passed out after lunch, then woke up at 6:30 thinking it was morning and why was Livvie up so early? Steven was like, “But Mom, it’s the same day.” I couldn’t get my mind to accept it was the same day. Another day, I got a postcard saying: “It’s time for your annual mammogram.” Ruh-roh. There’s nothing to see there. Not going to miss having my boobs crushed paper thin, that’s for sure. Bandages are the only thing left besides intense soreness and throbbing pain. So I’ve had to learn the official man hug – slight shoulder turn to avoid any full chest-to-chest contact. But I don’t do the man hug “big finish” heavy thump on the back that signals “hug over now.” I also learned I was texting in Dr. Seuss language: “It’s sedated Jacki live from hospital bed. Awesome news, it didn’t spread!” What a dork.
THREE POSITIVES:
1- Livvie went on a trip to Seattle with her friend Ella and had a ball. She actually missed us and bought me a beautiful necklace made from a Scrabble letter.
2- The dog mistakenly thought my drainage bulb was a squeaky toy.
3- Thankful that I get to wonder where I go from here now that Weird Cancer Guy is gone.
jacki kane 