I can't really express it an other way - The powers that be are smiling on me this sunny day. I feel like throwing my arms up and rejoicing. I feel well on the way to a clean break from my cancerous life.
While the surgery day was a shocking bleak midwinter's day, the next, the day of my returning home was bright, sunny and full of hope.
The surgery, according to Dr. McCready was straightforward with no complications - clear-cut so to speak. The nurse who came today changed the dressing and was impressed with his work. Not a drop of blood. Not a bruise. Skillful and kind to the body, surely a rare combination. The festering scar from my portacath removal on my right side testament to this difference in skill and care. A team of caring professionals - hands on my feet in a gesture of care before the surgery, calm reassuring voices, and cheerful and kind people, all part of a vivid memory of this time.
By the end of day 1, I was walking around the ward and eating Thai take out. And now home, I am up and about, typing, eating, etc - with great range of movement in my arm - even thought I cannot really feel it - numbness from cut nerves - I feel like a normal person - startling progress for day 3, I am told by those in the know.
As I learn where the spear-sharp pain points are - the point at which you gasp and need to stop - and as Michael has learned the "milking the drain" process- our stress levels ease off immeasurably. We can handle this round. It has fewer roadblocks and diversions.
There are 39 staples across my chest. They are like a train track - while hideous and raw, quite beautiful, if you think about it. A metaphor of travel - a pathway moving away from the darkness and into the light - bright and sunny, and full of hope, written on my body.