It Could Always be Worse

Deep in my heart, I know this is true. That being said.......

Went in on Wednesday for another follow-up with the plastic surgeon. He was very happy with my progress (and the results of his work) and told me to come back on Monday. I know he didn't PROMISE the drains would come out but more than 2 weeks with drains? Seriously? At this point I'm resigned to doing whatever I have to do, but I'm not sure what else I can do. I rest, I take my antibiotic, I'm trying to be "active" and "take it easy" at the same time.

Yesterday was our 26th anniversary, and it is going to have to be a delayed celebration, for sure. Everyone is tired and on edge and we need a collective vacation. I just hope we can go to the Cape in a little over 2 weeks.

This morning, some kind of swelling appeared on the left side and when I called the doctor's office I got a recording that they don't "take calls" until noon through 4 on Fridays. So I freaked out for a bit, called Rod, and then called the doctor again at noon-oh-5....and got a message saying the office is out to lunch and to call back after 2. And the answering service wants to know "is this an emergency?" (At the risk of sounding like the classic Jewish mother-light bulb joke, "don't worry about me; I'll just sit in the dark,) I hemmed and hawed but in the end gave the poor message service guy the whole story and left it to him to pass the information along to the appropriate person(s).

You can't even imagine what was going on here by then (or maybe you can; either way I took a Valium) and Rod charged home on his white horse and announced that we were going down there, NOW. ("Now" is 30 minutes with no traffic on Route 4; so, almost always 40 minutes.)

In the meantime the office called and told us to come right in. When the nurse took a look she thought at first that the tissue expander may have misplaced itself somehow. She left the exam room to call the doctor and left me in tears at the prospect of a surgery on Monday to correct this problem. Given the choice of crying for the 15 minutes she was gone or trying to take a nap, the nap won (been getting my best sleep in the afternoons.)

Pat returned, did some more poking, and announced that the expander seems to still be correctly placed and that the swelling is most likely fluid. So now I have a kind of giant Ace bandage that wraps around to compress the area and I'm keeping it as tight as I can and still breathe. And I'm not looking at it again until tomorrow morning when, if I could catch a teeny break, the swelling will have dissipated a little. I just want to be headed in the right direction. Again? For a change?

There are SO MANY worse things in life than this. But just for a few minutes here and there for the past couple of days, I haven't stopped to smell the roses or counted my blessings even though I know the former are eminently fragrant and the latter so blessedly innumerable. My rose-colored glasses are out for repair.