It's been a very quiet, lazy week for me and my sweetie, with my 3x/day blood thinner injections done by the home nurse, and basically just resting and letting my poor abused body heal. (One "plus" - I've dropped nearly 30lbs since this started, on top of the 20 I lost deliberately over a 6-month period earlier in the year, and now at 50 lbs lighter I barely recognize myself. I haven't been at this weight since 1996! My older stepson says I'm "fondue" -- melting!)
I was frustrated on Monday at a doctor checkup to learn I'd have to do the 3x/day shots until probably January 5th (plus bloodwork twice weekly). I knew intellectually this would be a long, slow process, and having a blood clot just complicates matters, so I was in a pretty bad mood that day. I had at least been hoping to taper off to 2 or even 1 daily injection because I am now also starting the transition to blood thinner pills, but I guess this is a tricky medication to get just right. I am just sick of feeling like a fricking pincushion.
Then there are my weakened abs - the scar extends across my entire mid-section, below the breasts and above the navel, like a bizarre sort of Christmas garland, starting under the left breast near the bottom of the rib cage, swooping up in an arc to a point between but below where a bra band would rest; then swooping down to the right (they followed and reopened my gall bladder scar so at least I won't have 2 of them) all the way to my right side. Yep, it's a biggie. Thankfully at 53 I am no longer interested in wearing a bikini no matter how thin I may get.
But the weak abs mean almost constant back pain, as I can't stand or sit up completely straight, and I'm forced to sleep only on my back until the scar is no longer painful and I can sleep on my side again. Back pain = poor sleep which means I've been cranky. Luckily, Georges is patient and loving, and very good at getting a smile out of me no matter how bitchy I'm feeling. I figure by this time next week things will really begin to improve: no more injections (though still regular blood tests) and maybe I'll be able to sleep in a better position. I just have to tough it out a little longer.
Today there will be one NEW positive thing happening: the stitches will come out! When the nurse comes for the 2pm injection, she will also take out every other stitch, then tomorrow afternoon will take the reset! (The scar is about 14" long, so we're talking a lot of stitches.) I will be more comfy after that, and it's one more milestone I can feel good about.
Our New Year was as quiet as our Christmas, just us two. No champagne, no fancy foods: in fact, to give Georges a break from cooking, we decided to eat "breakfast for dinner" or what Georges' family for some reason calls a "dîner Suisse" or Swiss dinner. We never made it to midnight, either (the nurse comes at 7am so we've been turning in early). But as Georges told me, as long as we can end each year and then start each new year together, we need nothing more.
Although I haven't felt much up to writing or working on editing my memoir (which got sidetracked when I started to be sick in November), the other day I found myself THINKING about things in the book, ideas I had for things I wanted to add. And THAT made me happy because it meant I could focus on something other than my health. Maybe by next week I'll be up to sitting at a table in front of my computer for longer stretches of time, and I can get back into the swing of things. Anyway, it won't be long.
So that's where things stand over here in my post-op life. Going into January it will mostly be more rest, trying to build up more stamina, a check-up with my urologist, visits with friends (Georges goes back to work on the 5th so local friends are welcome to come by and keep me company - and those friends further afield can keep sending me your wonderful messages and emails!) and making an appointment for February with the new oncologist to get the full report on the cancer and to tackle the next step: some low-level chemo (in pill form) to eradicate the stuff that spread to my lungs. Six or so months from now I ought to be in a MUCH better place, health-wise.
I wish for all of you what I wish for myself this year: EXTREMELY GOOD HEALTH, lots of love and joy, prosperity, and your boldest dreams coming true. Let 2015 be OUR BEST, BOLDEST YEAR!
Bonne année, mes amis!
Image source: http://www.paris.fr/nouvelan2015
