No Place Like Home

I was allowed to go home today after proving I could shower without passing out. I really  wanted to just crawl back into bed after the shower, but powered my way through it and convinced everyone I was up to going home. Good thing my cousin sent my a soft puffy pillow which worked great for the ride home. New foobs (fake boobs - although mine are more like toobs, tummy boobs) and seat-belts don't really go well together. I still feel puffy, sore and the skin is a bit raw under the surgical bra and abdominal binder and I just hope this is worth it. Sitting up is a challenge with the tummy scar going nearly hip to hip. In the words of Robert Louis Stevenson "Vanity dies hard." The things we put ourselves through just to feel like women. I mean really, removing tummy fat to build foobs? It's great, it's awesome, it hurts like hell. I tell myself by this time next year they will feel like a part of me, but right now I am they throb and I am uber aware of them. 

Have a strange sensation in the back of my left arm as well; it is overly sensitive to everything, which is a result of the lymph-node extraction. My surgeon says it will go away eventually, probably when I loose all feeling in the back of my arm. Awesome. One more thing to look forward to. My arms are bruised where the IVs were, they had to take the IVs out of my right as they were getting bruised and tender and had a hard time getting them in my left arm. Add pincushion to the list of sensations I'm dealing with. Maybe I can just hibernate for the next six weeks.

Glad to be home where Mom has set me up in the recliner. This will be my home for the next few weeks, at least until I can manage to get out of bed on my own. The forcing of fluids requires the ability to get up several times during the night. Mika is glad to see me, but is not sure what to make of all of it and seems to keep her distance. Can't really blame her, I'm not sure what to make of it either, but at least we seem to be making progress.


"Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself." — Walter Anderson