Whole New World Part Two

[rolanni]

So, I'm home from the hospital, having had a unilateral mastectomy, left breast, on Tuesday, and an overnight vacation in the Eastern Maine Medical Center's Short Stay Unit.  I had hoped to be released today, but had scarcely hoped to be in the car with Steve, and heading for home by 10:30 am.  The operation went well, I'm told, and honestly there's less pain than I had feared.  The nurses were pro-active with the Hard Stuff, it apparently being a Maxim of Nurses -- You don't want a stern chase when it comes to pain.  I had a couple doses of two pain pills, then voluntarily cut myself down to one, and I'm thinking we'll just try to cope with Extra Strength Tylenol from here on, and the Funny Stuff held in reserve.

The hospital of course was gearing up for the Coronavirus Invasion, and cancelling elective surgeries.  The Short Stay Unit had two over-nighters -- myself and a person I never saw.  I did not have a roomie, which was fine by me.

So, here I am, with a series of exercises to do three times a day, a drain that needs to be stripped several times a day, measured twice a day, and orders to move around.  I may not reach above my head, and I am disallowed from picking up anything heavier than 5 pounds.  I must be mindful of which side I'm using -- because I'm a converted leftie, and that's my go-to arm, and somewhere in and around these necessary assignments, I'm to rest.

The results of the lymph node survey are not yet available to use -- the doctor will call me sometime next week with those results, and then...We'll Know All.

As I was getting ready to leave, an engineer and one of the hospital maintenance folks came onto the Unit.  Their task was to find where the old water fountains had been in the hallways, and install hand-washing stations in those locations.  The (male) engineer met the (female) Unit Administrator outside my door, and the Unit Administrator asked how the task was proceeding.

"Well," said the engineer, "we can do it, all right.  But it's gonna be ugly (this being the Engineering "ugly" aka "not elegant.)"

To which the Administrator replied, "Well, many things are going to be ugly before we through this (this being the medical "ugly" aka "people are gonna die.)"

It was a striking and chilling scene, that.

Everybody take care.

Author's Note:  I am still somewhat under the influence of pain killers, be kind to my spelling and sentence structure.

Comments

[mirlacca]

Glad to hear you're home and doing well. May your recovery be fast and complete.

Welcome home!

[(Anonymous)]

Best wishes for a speedy recovery. Thanks for updating us.
Millie C-Y

[estara]

Good to hear back from you. Swift recovery!

Glad you are home

[ireneha]

Don't lift anything more than 5 lbs.? Sadly that includes the cats... Even if they think that they are Velcro - They will have to be self re-locating.
Chin up. Take the meds as recommended. Do the exercise.

Luckily you already have a fan base, and those people have either walked the same road, or are willing to help you walk it. [Parable about the pair of footprints in the sand.]

[Small noisy celebration going on in my head.]

[malkingrey]

I like the differing professional usages of "ugly", there.

It's kind of like the EMS usage of "messy" to describe an ambulance call: "traumatic injuries and lots of bodily fluids; possibly also multiple patients, at least one with altered mental status." (Which, if nobody actually dies, is also a "fun call." It's not that EMTs want anyone to have a horrible accident; it's just that if somebody is scheduled by fate to have one, they want to be there for it. Adrenaline junkies, the lot of them.)