Quick update

 

Quick update before we head to the last high school home football game of the season:

Port surgery went fine. It was under the estimated 45 minutes, no issues, not terribly sore, haven't seen it yet cuz it's under a dressing, though it is all set and ready for use next week. Only snag seems to be the usual adhesive reaction... I have three spots where they put leads on my chest for my vitals and they are all clearly outlined in rash. Itchy, itchy Ichabod, i i i... That's my scar from my previous port!

Follow up appointments yesterday both went well also. My plastics doc was pleased with the scar, took some pictures, and said he will see me at the 3 month mark. 

Physical therapy was a workout; I can see why people are worn out afterwards. She was really pleased with my range of motion, so that was very encouraging. She said I qualify for the "advanced" version of exercises, haha, so she sent me home with a packet to work through and she will also see me again at the 3 month mark. 

Chemo starts next week and I've decided to take some googly eyes with me to stick on the IV bag. I also plan to wear my orange and black striped witchy socks since it'll be the week of Halloween. And I have snacks and my bestie Lisa and things to keep us both occupied and out of trouble for the multiple hours we will be there. Apparently this set takes around 3 hours and I have both a blood draw (through my port, yippie!) and an office visit with my oncologist before the chemo starts. Add in a bag of anti-nausea meds in addition to both bags of chemo and probably a bag of saline to keep me flushing and I'll be floating away in no time! Interestingly and unfortunately, there is an IV fluids shortage because the factory was in Asheville, NC! 

I'll keep you posted. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Itchy-bo-bo-scratchety man

 I told a friend I'd discovered the thrift store where Jessica Rabbit shops, apparently! My goodness. So brave.

Since we can't all have the body shape of Jessica Rabbit, and even she says, "I'm not bad- I'm just drawn that way," I want to point out some things on this vessel that is hauling me around these days. 

*Farther down is a photo of my surgical area. Sensitive viewers beware*

There's a terrific book by David Shannon called Good Boy, Fergus! It's about a small white dog who is quite the stinker. Our kids loved it, both the story and the art. There's a page where Fergus is on his back, wiggling as he receives belly rubs, and his owner is asking, "aww, does that feel good? Itchy-bo-bo-scratchety man!" 

We've said that a lot around here over the years just like "itchy, itchy Ichabod" so it's been fitting as I squirm around trying to get lotion on my itchy patches. I think they're slowly improving, maybe? You can clearly see how the adhesive had tormented me:

The blue-black section is still dye that will work its way out. We are getting there. The dermatape or whatever it's called is starting to come away from my skin and supposedly will flake off over a period of weeks. The skin from the inside of my upper arm is still getting stuck in it and pulling a little, but it is happening somewhat less.

As you can see down a little lower, NO DRAIN! Woohoo! That's what the scab is from in the middle of the itchiest red patch. My plastics doc felt that output had slowed enough that he could remove it and he bandaged me up. So nice to be tentacle-free, man. Hooray. He said it may seep a bit and that's okay, but it seems to have scabbed over for now. Next week my surgeon will check it during her follow up. He also prescribed something for the itchy reaction that he agreed is most likely from the surgery prep soap(s). He sympathized and said sometimes people do have a sensitivity. Haha. Yeah. That'd be me. I'm not sure the meds are helping. I was getting a little worried yesterday because the lower half of my face felt like it was a little puffy after I took it so I thought maybe I better lay off it, but my face still feels like that and I haven't had any today. I think it's just generalized aggravation. It's not as much of an all-consuming itch today, thank goodness. And I'm drinking lots to flush things along. Ha.

Farther down, you can see a shadowy line which does indeed indicate back fat. I am keeping this real, people. I am middle aged and even though some of you have thought of me as "that skinny girl" for decades, I, too, have areas I'd kinda sorta like to work on but not really because of the work involved. Haha! Just staying honest. I don't want anybody looking at this body and getting any ideas about perfection. 😏Not even close. 

That said, I AM proud of my leg muscles, but that's a different story. Dada DID take me on our usual 3.2 mile walk today with no problems, so I'm gettin' back in the saddle and working on building things back up. As my nurse Lisa reminded me, I'm using everything to heal my surgical site so I have to remember to add in extra calories.

Time for ice cream! Cheers!

Apparently I get bossy when I'm itchy

 There's a great line by Dr. Seuss in his board book version, I think, of his alphabet book. In the regular version for the letter "I" it says something like "Ichabod is itchy... and so am I" but the board book is smaller (and more easy to chew on as a small child) so the words are condensed to "itchy, itchy Ichabod... i i i" 

Man, I'm feelin' ya, buddy. 

We've used that phrase over bug bites and occasional rounds with poison ivy for years, but it's most of what I've been trying to not think about today. I am fairly sure that all of the weird dyes, meds, adhesives and cleansers have united against me on my right side from my neck to about my belly button and I am ITCHY, ITCHY ICHABOD, all right! I have tiny bumps all over my skin on my right arm and front of my torso, and I'm having flashbacks to when I was a kid in the summertime who had been graciously given a case of chicken pox (thanks a lot for sharing, Hinrew). My Dad kept telling me to not scratch as I chilled on a sheet-covered couch because it would scar. I vividly remember musing, "nobody will ever see my scalp" so I scratched away, intensely, without too much relief, and pulled scabs out of my hair. Imagine my astonishment and bemusement when I heard I'd lose my hair during chemo! Whoops. Guess people are gonna see my scalp after all!

I survived. 

I also survived my 10 day late period this month. It should have arrived around the 6th. It waited until two days before surgery, the 16th. So that cloud of piratey talk you heard but couldn't quite identify the source of? Yeah, that was me. I told a friend there weren't going to be any F bombs left for the rest of the world's conversations because I was using them ALL. The nurses laughed when I told them, soothed me, and said it happens more often than you think. The stress of whatever is upcoming holds it off... until it can't anymore. I lived to tell the tale. 

And since I know some of you are like, "waiiiiit..." YES, chemo does mess all that up too. For awhile there were none, which was splendid, let me tell you, and then they came back more or less regularly. Sometimes it skipped. Sometimes it's early. Always it's a pain. 

Years ago, I dragged a friend of mine to the talk for parents that schools give before they give the "our bodies are changing" talk to the students. We all watched the video and at one point, I kid you not, it was stated that, "soon, your period will become such a normal part of your routine that you won't even notice it." As every woman's jaw dropped, the driest voice I've ever heard interjected from somewhere in that accumulation of parents and it pronounced, "LIAR."

After everyone present got control of themselves, my girlfriend and I mused about how hilarious that was, how inaccurate it was, and how the students who were about to be seeing the video might take that as gospel and have NO IDEA THAT IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. 

Never have I planned an overnight stay, a vacation, a camp out, anything, without considering when and if Aunt Flo would decide to grace us with her presence. Are you even kidding me? You'll never even notice?! Like your gang won't notice that you're crabby from PMS and need to stand back and toss chocolate to you? That your clothes don't fit right? That your skin and hair get more oily? That you generally feel crummy? And that it's about to become more fun and games? Ugh. Seriously, people, tell the truth!

You will notice. It might suck. I survived. So will they. So will you. Life won't stop, not for a period, not for the loss of a job, not for the loss of a loved one, not for a natural disaster. You're going to have to keep going even when you think you can't. 

All of you facing down a hurricane, physically or otherwise, do what you can with your prep work, keep in touch with your village, and know you are not alone. When things are stable, help those whose world has been rocked. If you need ideas, look to my tribe- they are excellent at this! You don't have to be strong ALL THE TIME, so take your turn when it is your turn, and let others help when you can't. Go meet your neighbors- bring their empty trash cans back from the curb for them- and they might turn into friends. Leave a few minutes early so you DO have time to stop to check on the friend whose home you drive by on your regular outings. Love hard. Use your gifts. You are needed!

You are loved. Don't forget it.

Now I'll go find my Benadryl. And my bite sticks.

Love, Ichabod