Saturday, 15 September 2012
A friend of mine's husband does
High/Low with the kids when they sit down for supper in the evening.
They have to think of something that annoyed them and then something
wonderful from the day. Writing a blog feels like one bit High/Low to
me!
Last night Husband popped out in the car. I bathed daughter 2 and then got in the bath myself. I can't get properly wet as the scars haven't healed enough so washing is a slow process. I was marvelling at how much easier the whole thing was without the drain when I found a lump. It was small (about 1cm) and very hard and was just under my new boob against my ribs. It was slightly swollen and bruised around it and hurt when I pushed it.
I got out the bath and tried really hard not to panic. Got daughter 2 into her Pjs and snuggled her up in front of the telly. Dried myself very carefully and checked to see if I'd imagined it. No it was there. Husband returned and I showed him the lump. He managed not to collapse although I could see that was his first reaction. He found me a phone and we tried to remember who we were supposed to call in an emergency. I'm to avoid a local ambulance and go straight to Guys with any problems at all. Finally we got it together enough to call the ward.
I recognised the voice of the nurse who answered the phone. A gruff, no nonsence mother of six who had been the one to usher me into my private room in the middle of the night when my ward-chums were snoring so loudly I couldn't sleep. She was so matter-of-fact and just hearing her voice calmed me down. She thought it could be a collection of blood from the absence of a drain but we both thought it was too hard for that. Just as we were running out of ideas and I was looking forward (not in any excitement) to a drive to Guys and a long night ahead, I had a brain-wave and asked her where the port would be for my implant - It's one that can be expanded or deflated to match the other breast. She thought the Doctor should have showed me but it could be in the area I was explaining. She suggested I get Husband to draw around it and have another look in the morning.
Husband and I were both reduced to tears by the harsh reality of what's to come. The chemo is likely to bring with it a whole heap of night terrors and unexplained bleeding, lumps and bumps.
This morning the swelling had gone down from the removal of the drain and you can quite clearly see the small plastic port through my skin. Apparently it would normally sit in a thin layer of fat but due to my classic British pear shape I don't have that fat covering my ribs. I hadn't noticed it before as it was nestled just under the entry point for the drain.
I slept propped up last night, not quite lying down but getting there. Papy (Husband's father) returned this morning from his 6 months per year in the Catskill Mountains bringing with him tales of a new Love and exciting plans for his future. The girls are off for a sleepover in London with a wonderful friend of mine and her family. Things are returning to normal for now. Husband didn't even complain too much this morning when he had to wash my hair.
Last night Husband popped out in the car. I bathed daughter 2 and then got in the bath myself. I can't get properly wet as the scars haven't healed enough so washing is a slow process. I was marvelling at how much easier the whole thing was without the drain when I found a lump. It was small (about 1cm) and very hard and was just under my new boob against my ribs. It was slightly swollen and bruised around it and hurt when I pushed it.
I got out the bath and tried really hard not to panic. Got daughter 2 into her Pjs and snuggled her up in front of the telly. Dried myself very carefully and checked to see if I'd imagined it. No it was there. Husband returned and I showed him the lump. He managed not to collapse although I could see that was his first reaction. He found me a phone and we tried to remember who we were supposed to call in an emergency. I'm to avoid a local ambulance and go straight to Guys with any problems at all. Finally we got it together enough to call the ward.
I recognised the voice of the nurse who answered the phone. A gruff, no nonsence mother of six who had been the one to usher me into my private room in the middle of the night when my ward-chums were snoring so loudly I couldn't sleep. She was so matter-of-fact and just hearing her voice calmed me down. She thought it could be a collection of blood from the absence of a drain but we both thought it was too hard for that. Just as we were running out of ideas and I was looking forward (not in any excitement) to a drive to Guys and a long night ahead, I had a brain-wave and asked her where the port would be for my implant - It's one that can be expanded or deflated to match the other breast. She thought the Doctor should have showed me but it could be in the area I was explaining. She suggested I get Husband to draw around it and have another look in the morning.
Husband and I were both reduced to tears by the harsh reality of what's to come. The chemo is likely to bring with it a whole heap of night terrors and unexplained bleeding, lumps and bumps.
This morning the swelling had gone down from the removal of the drain and you can quite clearly see the small plastic port through my skin. Apparently it would normally sit in a thin layer of fat but due to my classic British pear shape I don't have that fat covering my ribs. I hadn't noticed it before as it was nestled just under the entry point for the drain.
I slept propped up last night, not quite lying down but getting there. Papy (Husband's father) returned this morning from his 6 months per year in the Catskill Mountains bringing with him tales of a new Love and exciting plans for his future. The girls are off for a sleepover in London with a wonderful friend of mine and her family. Things are returning to normal for now. Husband didn't even complain too much this morning when he had to wash my hair.
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