Yesterday was a big day. I went on a dump run (we don't have a trash service out here in the sticks) with Walter and then ran some errands and did some craft/fabric shopping. Every day I feel stronger, but there definitely is a limit to regular activity. It probably doesn't help that I sleep in increments of three hours (reminds me of when Scout was an infant). I can only sleep flat on my back and after a few hours, things start getting very uncomfortable. I'd compare it to a bad sunburn on your chest, wrapped in an ace bandage with your twelve-pound cat sitting on it. I dream about an increased range of motion where I can turn my lower body one direction and my upper body the other. I dream of sleeping on my stomach. Oh well, I'll get there. It takes time.
Dressing for an outing takes a bit of thought. I still have two drains and they have small (about the size of lemons) clear plastic bulbs at the end to collect the drainage. For the first week, I wore the bulbs in these cutsie fabric necklace pouches that hung around my neck (courtesy of the Cancer Support Home in Fayetteville), but they started to feel very heavy and get annoying. My solution to this was a very fashionable scarf tied around my waist with the bulbs pinned to it...think, holster style. This style is much more comfortable, but makes is a little difficult in picking out the right top. I guess I could go around in a midriff, but some people get queasy easily, so I try and conceal the bulbs. It's much like dressing if you are carrying concealed. You need a top that is long enough and loose enough as not to cling, otherwise you will be accused of "printing" and therefore aren't technically concealed. So, most of the time, I'm out and about in one of Walter's button-up shirts. The weather has turned warmed, so all of my long cardigans just won't work. Only a few more days and the last of the drains will come out! Woot, woot!
Everyone enjoy their St. Patricks day! I've been trying to work on an appropriate limerick, but my poetry skills are fairly minimal.... This is as far as I got:
There once a gal who was somewhat crafty.
Whose tatas had become way too snarky
So she lopped them both off
And tried not to scoff
And now she is cancer-free.
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