My Surgery went well, or so I am told.....I can't remember. It was while I was getting dressed to go home (4:30 ish) that the newly placed porta-cath started to hurt......1000 MG's of vicodin later, I was on my merry, stoned way home. I battled nausea the rest of the evening.
Sometime around 3:00 a.m I woke up in pain and in tears....that is finally when I had my pity party for one, I broke down with the kind of tears that everyone was waiting for....it really wasn't a pity party for one....Jim was my party guest. 750 MG'S of vicodin and a half box of Puff's later the party ended. Was that the big cry that was long passed due? I've wept quiet tears before, none for me, only for those that me having cancer has touched. I've cried when I've heard sad songs on the radio, I've cried over sad endings I've witnessed while watching television, I've wept silently watching my DH, Jim Sleep. I still haven't done the "Y Me" tears.......just can't go there...don't think I can ever go there.
I think what started off as tears of pain finally turned into tears of frustration. Having Cancer is bad enough, but why do I have to be in pain too? That just seems so unfair. The Mastectomy and the Tram Flap left me mostly numb so mostly pain free, the lymph node surgery left my arm in a lot of pain and only once in awhile do I feel the plastic piece that they rebuilt my abdominal wall with.......but this porta-cath hurts like hell (I'm told that is only temporary) and I was right about one thing though......this porta-cath has totally trashed my last huggable side to me. My post op, lymph node removed left arm has temporarily become my "good arm."
Me thinks I am back to being really pissed off again! Chemo starts Tuesday.......that's just (insert bad word here) great! Well, at least I'm attempting to clean up my potty mouth.