I'm home

It's great to be home. The hospital is not a place for resting. My roommates included a moaner, a complainer/swearer and a barfer. I was glad to accept the doctor's offer of a release when he saw me yesterday morning. He actually greeted my with, "How's the prisoner?". I left the hospital around 11:00 am Friday. Norm and I went bike shopping for Rosalie, then picked up the kids from school. We had a couple visitors stop by, threw in a frozen pizza for the kids, and went out for dinner. We ate our burgers at the beach and walked along the waterfront. We stopped by a friend's house to pick up the kids, had a nice visit and a cup of tea. It was a beautiful evening and I enjoyed myself much more than I would have, had I remained in the hospital.


I thought I would feel much worse than I do. I haven't felt nauseous, and feel no pain or discomfort (no, I'm not taking any drugs). I am so glad to be finished with the surgery. The next thing I have to get through is waiting for the pathology report. That will determine if I will have radiation or not. No radiation means we can have a great summer, radiation means we will have a good summer, but a different one.

You want to know what I think about my new body? Well, I'm OK with it. I looked down when the doctor examined me. He asked me if I were ready to see it and I nodded. When people tell you not to look down, don't listen to them. Whether you're on a tightrope across Niagara Falls or dealing with a hardship of some type, you need to "look down" so that you can assess the situation. I looked down and saw my flat chest held together by staples from my armpit to the middle of my chest. I am looking ahead to the fall, when I can have my reconstruction. For now, I'm going to fill the right side of my new bra with a "fluffy" and head to the beach. Look at me; stare at me. I'm doing it too, and what I see in that empty space is a wealth of medical knowledge, good friends, and a wonderful family.