I know, I know. I said I'd update more. I kind of got absorbed by a Candy Crush habit. I'll be over it soon, though. I never stick with a game for very long on Facebook. I get really obsessed, play all the time, drive everyone crazy with it, and then get bored and block the app. It's how I roll.
I had a couple of downer days over the weekend, so I didn't want to post then. I honestly can't even stand myself when I complain, so I try really hard not to subject others to it. I'm better now that I'm at work and can stay busy. There is so little I can do at home with my arm in a sling. At work, all I do is answer calls and work on the computer. I can do that with no problem!
Kevin's been working a lot of overtime lately, so we don't see each other Monday through Thursday. I see him Friday evening through Sunday. It's not an ideal situation, but it's helping pay the bills and giving me Fridays off to make up for no vacation days.
The night shift is hit and miss as far as being busy. Last night I had three calls after 5:00, and the last one was at 5:39. I have to be here until 7:30. It was torture. I finally found some work to keep my busy so I didn't pull my hair out. Sometimes a production employee walks by the customer service area and catches me acting silly or singing to myself and I'm alone in the room. They look at me like I'm crazy.
They're right.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Monday, July 1, 2013
What Died?
Last Monday, as I headed home from work, something smelled a little bit "off" in my car. I couldn't quite place it. I looked around to see if a kid had left something in there (food, etc) and couldn't find anything. Once on the road, I could no longer smell it, so I forgot all about it.
Tuesday morning, I was a bit stronger, but I didn't have time to investigate, so I came on to work, forgetting about it along the way, again. After work, I went out to my car and the smell hit me before I got to the door. Getting in the car proved nauseating. It smelled like a dead body.
When I got home, I looked all around in there again and couldn't find anything. I went back and popped the trunk and was almost flattened as the smell hit me in the face in the 95° heat. There, in the back, was the milk that I had purchased on Monday morning. It apparently never got taken into the house.
Except that it was no longer milk. It was 1/3 full of a chunky substance with a brown color. The entire carpet in my trunk was moist with the wretched nastiness. I drove to work and back on Wednesday wishing that my sense of smell didn't work. A coworker and I started some online research for ideas to help.
That night, I sprinkled a full 1 pound can of coffee back there. The next day, it smelled like coffee grounds and death. Slightly more like coffee, but the hint of death was still there. Yesterday, Natalie vacuumed the coffee out and found an area that had allowed the liquid to pool. Kevin got rid of that, and today I put an air freshener in the front of my car. As of tonight, the death smell is gone.
Let's just hope it doesn't come back. ::shudder::
Tuesday morning, I was a bit stronger, but I didn't have time to investigate, so I came on to work, forgetting about it along the way, again. After work, I went out to my car and the smell hit me before I got to the door. Getting in the car proved nauseating. It smelled like a dead body.
When I got home, I looked all around in there again and couldn't find anything. I went back and popped the trunk and was almost flattened as the smell hit me in the face in the 95° heat. There, in the back, was the milk that I had purchased on Monday morning. It apparently never got taken into the house.
Except that it was no longer milk. It was 1/3 full of a chunky substance with a brown color. The entire carpet in my trunk was moist with the wretched nastiness. I drove to work and back on Wednesday wishing that my sense of smell didn't work. A coworker and I started some online research for ideas to help.
That night, I sprinkled a full 1 pound can of coffee back there. The next day, it smelled like coffee grounds and death. Slightly more like coffee, but the hint of death was still there. Yesterday, Natalie vacuumed the coffee out and found an area that had allowed the liquid to pool. Kevin got rid of that, and today I put an air freshener in the front of my car. As of tonight, the death smell is gone.
Let's just hope it doesn't come back. ::shudder::
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Of Peanut Butter Inequality
I seldom want peanut butter. I don't hate it, but I don't crave it either. About once a year, I decide that peanut butter sounds good. My antibiotics have been making me nauseous, so I haven't been able to eat a lot of things, and today as I was packing crackers for my lunch, it occurred to me that peanut butter on the crackers sounded mighty tasty.
I like creamy peanut butter. Crunchy is OK, but not preferred. We always have both on hand because we're a house divided. I reached into the cabinet, pulled out the jar of creamy peanut butter, took off the lid, and saw this:
WHY is it gone the ONE time I want peanut butter, and WHY was it put back in the cabinet empty? Such a travesty! I got over my amazement at this and decided to settle for crunchy. I pulled that jar out of the cabinet, filled my little container for lunch, and was getting ready to leave for work.
That's when I noticed something else:
Does this seem fair to you? The crunchy peanut butter eaters get Jif. The creamy peanut butter eaters get Aldi's "Peanut Delight" brand. What the heck, man??? I would lodge a formal complaint with my husband, but I expect that he would tell me to start doing the grocery shopping myself. SO not worth it for one craving a year.
I like creamy peanut butter. Crunchy is OK, but not preferred. We always have both on hand because we're a house divided. I reached into the cabinet, pulled out the jar of creamy peanut butter, took off the lid, and saw this:
WHY is it gone the ONE time I want peanut butter, and WHY was it put back in the cabinet empty? Such a travesty! I got over my amazement at this and decided to settle for crunchy. I pulled that jar out of the cabinet, filled my little container for lunch, and was getting ready to leave for work.
That's when I noticed something else:
Does this seem fair to you? The crunchy peanut butter eaters get Jif. The creamy peanut butter eaters get Aldi's "Peanut Delight" brand. What the heck, man??? I would lodge a formal complaint with my husband, but I expect that he would tell me to start doing the grocery shopping myself. SO not worth it for one craving a year.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Vacation Bible School
I'm sick of whining about me, so I'll do an upbeat post.
I found out that our local church was set to have vacation bible school this week. When I was a kid, I'd go to every church's vacation bible school if I could. I LOVED it. When my kids were little, I let them go to every VBS possible. They always loved it. When I saw that it was that time of year again, I asked Kami's mom if she could stay with us for a week and attend. My girls are on summer break, so they could transport her and watch her.
I'm working the late shift this week, so I took her to the church on Monday morning. Monica rode along to help get her situated. She broke down into tears instantly. She didn't want to stay, she didn't want to play, she didn't want anything to do with the other kids. She was sobbing and crying real tears.
I KNEW she'd have a ball if she gave it a chance, so Monica offered to stay with her and I went on my way. She only cried a tiny bit longer, and by the end of the morning, she was having a ball. Monica also enjoyed herself and volunteered to help out for the rest of the week. Win-win. I can't wait to see what the rest of the week brings.
Here is Kami doing arts and crafts:
And having a snack:
I found out that our local church was set to have vacation bible school this week. When I was a kid, I'd go to every church's vacation bible school if I could. I LOVED it. When my kids were little, I let them go to every VBS possible. They always loved it. When I saw that it was that time of year again, I asked Kami's mom if she could stay with us for a week and attend. My girls are on summer break, so they could transport her and watch her.
I'm working the late shift this week, so I took her to the church on Monday morning. Monica rode along to help get her situated. She broke down into tears instantly. She didn't want to stay, she didn't want to play, she didn't want anything to do with the other kids. She was sobbing and crying real tears.
I KNEW she'd have a ball if she gave it a chance, so Monica offered to stay with her and I went on my way. She only cried a tiny bit longer, and by the end of the morning, she was having a ball. Monica also enjoyed herself and volunteered to help out for the rest of the week. Win-win. I can't wait to see what the rest of the week brings.
Here is Kami doing arts and crafts:
And having a snack:
Sunday, June 23, 2013
In Search of Sleep
I like my sleep. I strive for 8 hours each night. I'll settle for 7, and can get by on 6 in an emergency, but I sure am more pleasant to be around when I've had 8. My mom frequently struggles to get enough sleep. I've always felt blessed that I don't have that problem.
Even when taking chemo, I only struggled for sleep for a couple of days after each treatment, due to the steroids that they shot me full of. While many of my sisters in treatment struggled, I climbed into bed and passed out almost every day within moments.
Since this last procedure, I'm completely exhausted but having trouble sleeping. I don't know if it's because I'm feeling a bit down, or the combination of the bottles of pills beside me, or the necessity for sleeping in the recliner, or the bandages wrapped tight around my chest. Heck, it's likely a combination.
So tonight, I am going to take an Ambien. In fact, I just did. I have to get back to work tomorrow whether I'm ready or not. I'll have to allow time to shower (my left arm is useless, it has become so weak,) and bandage myself, get Kami registered for VBS and then get off to work. For all of that to flow seamlessly, I need sleep. I popped that thing 20 minutes ago, and I'm already getting kind of fuzzy-headed.
I'm hoping a good night's sleep improves my foul mood. My family deserves it. Here's to tomorrow! And here's to better living through chemistry.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Moving On
So the healing starts again. Only this time, it's different. This time I know that the odds aren't great. I know that I may have some difficult decisions in front of me. I hope it isn't so, but I know that I need to be prepared for that possibility. It's kind of depressing.
I'm the upbeat, positive one. I talk Kevin out of any funk that he may get into. He's been talking me out of MY funk for 2 days now. He left this morning for Carthage to pick up Monica and bring her home. They'll be back tomorrow. Natalie will be home from her basketball excursion in a few hours. That's good, since I need some company.
I'm wearing my sling. I'm wrapped in an ace bandage. I've got Neosporin and Silvadene in the places that they are supposed to be. I'm taking my precautionary antibiotics. I'm doing everything I'm told. If I do everything perfectly, I have a 60% chance of being done with reconstruction procedures. *sigh*
Cancer is evil. I kicked it's ass, yet it's still finding ways to get a punch in from time to time. Oh, it won't win, but all of this fighting sure does make me tired.
I'm the upbeat, positive one. I talk Kevin out of any funk that he may get into. He's been talking me out of MY funk for 2 days now. He left this morning for Carthage to pick up Monica and bring her home. They'll be back tomorrow. Natalie will be home from her basketball excursion in a few hours. That's good, since I need some company.
I'm wearing my sling. I'm wrapped in an ace bandage. I've got Neosporin and Silvadene in the places that they are supposed to be. I'm taking my precautionary antibiotics. I'm doing everything I'm told. If I do everything perfectly, I have a 60% chance of being done with reconstruction procedures. *sigh*
Cancer is evil. I kicked it's ass, yet it's still finding ways to get a punch in from time to time. Oh, it won't win, but all of this fighting sure does make me tired.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Oops
We had a major problem this morning. I didn't say anything to my parents or kids because when it's bad stuff, I like to share it with them in past tense. Later, I'll post a link to an image, but PLEASE be warned: It's graphic. Very graphic.
I slept in the recliner as instructed, to avoid problems. I woke up early this morning and realized that my shirt was damp on my left side. "Wow, I must have sweated a LOT." Half asleep, I reached my hand under my shirt and realized it was thick and sticky. Realization set in when I looked at my hand and saw blood.
I calmly walked into the bathroom and raised up my shirt. What I saw sent me into full on panic mode. My entire incision had opened up (about five inches across) and my implant was lying there, exposed. I walked into the bedroom to try to figure out what to do.
I woke Kevin by saying, "Umm, my incision opened up." He said "OK" and started trying to wake up. He sounded pretty nonchalant, so I must not have sounded as scared as I was. I was bandaging over it with a gauze pad and he offered to wrap me in an ace. When he came over, I asked him to take a picture with my phone first. He stepped around me, got one glimpse, and said, "Holy SHIT!" Umm, yeah. That's what I was thinking.
He called the on-call doctor and she instructed him to leave me wrapped as he had done it, and come in as planned. We were both so scared that we left early. The staff at Shawnee Mission Surgery Center are amazing, and when Kevin told me what had happened, they took me back and got me changed and into a bed, all as I alternated between crying and shaking.
After the Wonderful Dr. Dillow came to see me, they gave me some medicine to relax me and some pain medication. That seemed to help. Around 1:00, they finally wheeled me back to the operating room and knocked me out. I was out in an hour and Kevin was with me 45 minutes later. Now I'm home.
He put in a new implant, since that one had been exposed. According to him, I have about a 40% chance of this being a failure. If it opens again, tomorrow or nine months from now, he cannot put another one in. At that point, we give up on the implant and explore other reconstruction options. All of the others are pretty major and involve a long recovery, so we're really hoping against that.
I'm trying not to be depressed. It hasn't failed. The problem is that my brain thought I had an 18% chance of failure, and I now know it's 40%. That is a scary figure. I'm just going to concentrate on the fact that I have a 60% chance of this working just fine. I'm back in the sling. Dr Wonderful said that it had NOTHING to do with anything I did. He said that radiation beat my tissue down more than most people. Dang.
Now, if you have a strong stomach and want to see what I saw in the mirror, click here. You've been warned.
I slept in the recliner as instructed, to avoid problems. I woke up early this morning and realized that my shirt was damp on my left side. "Wow, I must have sweated a LOT." Half asleep, I reached my hand under my shirt and realized it was thick and sticky. Realization set in when I looked at my hand and saw blood.
I calmly walked into the bathroom and raised up my shirt. What I saw sent me into full on panic mode. My entire incision had opened up (about five inches across) and my implant was lying there, exposed. I walked into the bedroom to try to figure out what to do.
I woke Kevin by saying, "Umm, my incision opened up." He said "OK" and started trying to wake up. He sounded pretty nonchalant, so I must not have sounded as scared as I was. I was bandaging over it with a gauze pad and he offered to wrap me in an ace. When he came over, I asked him to take a picture with my phone first. He stepped around me, got one glimpse, and said, "Holy SHIT!" Umm, yeah. That's what I was thinking.
He called the on-call doctor and she instructed him to leave me wrapped as he had done it, and come in as planned. We were both so scared that we left early. The staff at Shawnee Mission Surgery Center are amazing, and when Kevin told me what had happened, they took me back and got me changed and into a bed, all as I alternated between crying and shaking.
After the Wonderful Dr. Dillow came to see me, they gave me some medicine to relax me and some pain medication. That seemed to help. Around 1:00, they finally wheeled me back to the operating room and knocked me out. I was out in an hour and Kevin was with me 45 minutes later. Now I'm home.
He put in a new implant, since that one had been exposed. According to him, I have about a 40% chance of this being a failure. If it opens again, tomorrow or nine months from now, he cannot put another one in. At that point, we give up on the implant and explore other reconstruction options. All of the others are pretty major and involve a long recovery, so we're really hoping against that.
I'm trying not to be depressed. It hasn't failed. The problem is that my brain thought I had an 18% chance of failure, and I now know it's 40%. That is a scary figure. I'm just going to concentrate on the fact that I have a 60% chance of this working just fine. I'm back in the sling. Dr Wonderful said that it had NOTHING to do with anything I did. He said that radiation beat my tissue down more than most people. Dang.
Now, if you have a strong stomach and want to see what I saw in the mirror, click here. You've been warned.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)