Stayin' Alive

Still here! The boobectomy was last Thursday, and I finally have enough energy to sit down at the computer. Up until now, any energy I had was directed at taking meds, deciding on where to nap, and thanking people for bringing food.

I get weepy with gratitude whenever someone shows up at our door with yet another edible treat. I think anesthesia makes me maudlin. Or maybe it's the meds...

SO MANY MEDS

Also, I keep having weird dreams about what my chest might look like now, because there is no flippin' way I am actually peeking under these bandages until I have to. The 4 (FOUR!) drainage tubes are bad enough for a squeamish person like myself to deal with at this point. Luckily Larry -- one-armed Larry -- is in charge of emptying them and writing down how many cc's of liquid are in each one, and if we were still homeschooling, this would totally be science lab for the kids.

Oh, and just to make sure that things were chaotic enough last week, Rachel managed to have a pretty serious fender bender 2 days before the surgery. With our car. Luckily she's all right, but Tuesday was pretty stressful, what with filing insurance claims, finding where the car was towed to, etc. 

Maybe a little more than a fender bender

But hey, Rachel wasn't hurt and (Silver Lining Alert!) I didn't have as much time available to fret about the upcoming surgery. I said this to a friend, who promptly dubbed me "Pollyanna in Hell." She's not wrong.

And I am suddenly out of energy to sit up, so I am going to take myself to one of our napping couches and have yet another wee rest, delicate flower that I am...

Whoops!

Hey! Still here, finally feeling back to normal, yay, just took 7 weeks post-surgery to get to this point. Of course it didn't help that at 3 weeks post-op, pretty much the day after the surgeon told me I could start resuming some normal activities, Larry decided to throw himself over the handlebars of his bicycle and break his collarbone.

OH YES HE DID

So, instead of easing back into the daily grind, I was suddenly the only person in the house who could do dishes, carry laundry (or at least drag it in a bag down the stairs), tie shoelaces (yes, it feels odd to be tying a pair of size 13 shoes for someone), and pretty much ANYTHING else you can imagine. Poor Larry's job was to hold his arm as still as possible in a sling for 2 weeks so he wouldn't make it worse and need surgery.

I'll tell you, it felt as if we had gone from two reasonably fit and capable middle-aged people to a couple of doddering senior citizens in what felt like a weird sort of science fiction time jump. And our grown kids got an all-too-clear picture of what would happen in another decade or two if they let us age in place in this house. I expect them to start taking us on tours of senior living communities any time now.

Anywhoo, Larry did a great job of holding his arm still, and he has mended enough that he can do dishes sloooowly and carry laundry in his left hand and manage to get it in the washer, so I am sure we will be JUST FINE when I have surgery again this week.

Yeah, that came up fast, didn't it?

But first Brian graduated from college (I got to drive while Larry sat grimacing in the passenger seat, trying not to be in pain), and then we had a family graduation party (exhausting) and then there was Susie's birthday but she got COVID so we postponed the party until last Saturday, which was the same day Larry managed to drive back down to Brian's college town so Brian could load up the car by himself with all his worldly possessions and then Larry managed to drive all the way back up, but guys? A broken collarbone, even one on the mend, is just exhausting and painful, and I sure as heck hope I never have to go through that myself.

We've managed to be festive, despite setbacks, we're so brave

SO FESTIVE

This would be the summer that we have 3 grown kids moving house, just when Larry cannot lift a single thing. Theo and his wife (SHE NEEDS A BLOG NAME, I KNOW) moved Brian to Philadelphia for us last weekend; Anna is rounding up her own crew of friends to move to Philly in July (look, that city is affordable, unlike most of the other ones around here); and luckily, Rachel will have her boyfriend and Theo and David (who will just happen to be visiting at that time) to help her move to her new place locally while I'm still laid up from surgery.

It's just...a lot, okay? I'm tired just thinking about it.

 Susie departed for a summer Americorps program today, leaving Larry and I to our decrepit selves as empty nesters for 10 weeks. Will we have fun? NO. He'll be washing dishes sloooowly and left-handedly doing the laundry, and I will be recovering from surgery and trying to get used to having no boobs and I guess doing whatever post-op PT they tell me to do. 

Oh, we had such plans! Even though we knew I'd be recuperating, Larry had joined a local paddlers association and was going to be out and about on weekends kayaking through the local waters; and then, at the end of the summer, we were going to head up to Acadia with the kayak on top of the camper van again, like last year, and he was going to paddle around up there while I would sit in peaceful solitude and knit.

Somehow, we don't think Larry will be up to lifting a 50-lb kayak over his head at the end of August, even if - as David suggested - he did want to paddle left-handedly in a circle.

David cracks me up sometimes.

I guess biking might be out, also.

This will most emphatically NOT be happening this year

So, yeah, the best-laid plans and all that, I know...at this point we just hope not to become any more decrepit, we're not asking for much, right?

In Which I Learn Surgery Is A Real Thing

 I kept meaning to pop in to drop a quick line saying I was okay after surgery, but every time I thought about sitting up and typing at the computer, I got tired, so here we are, 9 days later.

 I'M OKAY

I guess I was just making this erroneous assumption that laparoscopic surgery wasn't "real" surgery and that I'd be bouncing around like normal by Day 4 post-op. In retrospect, this was really dumb. I think this is the first day that my core muscles feel as though they might be working properly again, and I have no idea why they were knocked out, since, well, it was LAPAROSCOPIC SURGERY and no one was slicing through all the muscles to get to the stuff they were taking out.

I just don't get it.

Vandals yarn bombed my home while I was in surgery

Anywhoo, I'm feeling somewhat normal now and a friend is coming by to take me for a very short real walk, now that I don't feel as though my stomach is falling out when I stand up, so that's good.

And everyone brought us food, which was really nice, because apparently anesthesia does a number on your brain and there's no way I would have told myself to eat without someone putting a plate of food right in front of me. Also, I kept repeating myself (FOR DAYS), to the point where my family would get worried looks on their faces while I was speaking.

Which isn't really fair, how am I supposed to remember what I said to whom? There were a bunch of people around and have I mentioned I had just had surgery?

Like, yarn bombed  A LOT

The surgery itself was great, because they knocked me out before they even started rolling me out of pre-op and I had no idea and that's the way I like it, for sure. I did spend the next 3 or 4 days completely freaked out by the whole concept of surgery, though. I mean, it's weird, right?

I'M OKAY BUT FREAKED OUT

And, ha-ha, there's another surgery coming up. Yay. It's fine. Really.

Oh, and all the biopsies (because apparently they do those if your BRCA2 is mutated) came back clear/negative/however you say it. I feel very lucky.

I'M OKAY BUT FREAKED OUT BUT GRATEFUL

Also grateful for knitting friends who like to let me know they're thinking about me

And that's all I've got right now, because the brain is still somewhat addled and I still get a little tired sitting up, because apparently that is all core strength and who knew? Not me, that's for sure; apparently, I've got a lot to learn.

Surgery Eve, Yay

Happy Surgery Eve! When next we meet, I will be missing a few body parts, but I wasn't using any of them anymore anyway, so there's that. I'm terrified, never having had surgery before, but I hear I'm unconscious during all this, so if I can just get to the point where they knock me out, things should be okay. 

A bit of catch-up:

 If any of you believe the adage "You can't go home again," I'm here to tell you that you are obviously NOT an aging Jew who is currently enjoying copious amounts of TempTee cream cheese slathered on matzoh.

Direct ticket to childhood, I swear

In other news, Theo and his wife (does she have a name yet here? WHY NOT?) were between apartments for a couple of weeks in March, so they stayed with us, which was delightful, but I still decided I needed a weekend off during all that (people are more likely to step up with the cooking efforts when I'm not here acting martyred), so I hopped into a car with 2 friends who were road tripping down to the Carolina FiberFest.

Because we knitters be crazy like that, I tell ya...

What with all the knitting I had gotten done during my stressful January and February, I decided I could justify buying new yarn. A lot of new yarn. SO MUCH new yarn. This was, of course, a lie, because there was plenty of yarn waiting for me at home, but hey, when in Rome (or, in this case, Raleigh)...

In my defense, I have plans for ALL of this

I won a door prize (that skein in front) and also another door prize (the black apron in the back). Apparently, my year of being lucky continues. For the knitters among you, from left to right, this yarn is going to become a Depth Cowl, a Bennet Sister Shawl (my planned post-op knitting), a birthday present (sshhh...), and another Pure Joy scarf, like the one I knit last month, only in blue.

See? Plans.

I enjoyed my own hotel room for 2 nights; I also enjoyed not worrying about what anyone (including myself) was going to eat, for 3 entire days. And I don't think anyone at home missed me one bit, which is good but which also made me feel a tad miffed.

I'm a complicated person, I guess. Or just plain fickle. "Complicated" sounds more interesting, though, doesn't it?

Spring did its thing in March:

Cherry trees showing off, as is their wont

But then the weather got really cold, so it was spring and winter at the same time, which was quite confusing. 

Huh, I'm talking about the weather, which means it's probably time for me to sign off. Maybe go eat some more cream cheese on matzoh, I dunno...

Holding Pattern

 Hi! Still here, still alive, still completely intact - apparently, it takes longer than I thought to schedule surgery dates, etc. The first surgery (ovaries/tubes/uterus) won't take place until 17 April, and I swear, if I had know it would be that long, I wouldn't have posted so early about it! Now I just feel like a drama queen, oooh, everyone, look at me!

So, uh, sorry about that.

Spring happened, though, there's that

In the meantime, we've been busy here. For Valentine's Day, Larry and I went on a date to the plastic surgeon, where we were treated to WAY too much detail about reconstructive breast surgery. I went home overwhelmed by the choices and was up with anxiety half the night. And here, my friends, is where female solidarity comes into play: Did you know that apparently it is a thing for post-mastectomy/reconstruction women to immediately volunteer to show you their boobs if you are facing the same situation? It's sort of like men showing off a new car.

So I've seen real-life fake boobs and they look completely normal and NOTHING like the pictures the doctor was pulling up from the web during our consultation. At which point I calmed down and gave the go-ahead on the whole shebang (no idea where that word came from, but it's staying), and now I'm due to have that done on 15 June. My post-op appointment is on the 21st, which is not exactly how I had planned to spend my 60th birthday, but life is weird like that.

What's also weird is that crocheted bags keep showing up randomly
all over the house, as Susie is obsessed with her new hobby

So this whole thing has been a lot of hurry up and wait, which isn't fun, but yay, there is always knitting to do and also job applications, the filling out of which has become a new hobby of mine, apparently. I was laid off almost 3 YEARS AGO, and yeah, I'll admit that at first I enjoyed the break and the luxury of having all that time to do whatever I wanted, especially since I still had a houseful of COVID refugees. But my brain is screaming for something to do (something PAID), and not even the part-time Container Store job -- fun as it is -- can cure that.

Folks, I can't believe how many jobs I can be rejected from. It's staggering. Demoralizing, even. And I've learned that there are many, many wrong things you can say to a person who has been looking for a job for a while, because I have heard all of them. For your edification:

"That's weird - there's such low unemployment right now" translates to Wow, you ARE a loser!

"Have you tried looking online? There's lots of job sites" sounds like You're a loser AND you are stupid!

"You should apply to these!" while pointing to several job postings I am in no way qualified for/interested in becomes You're a stupid loser who isn't trying hard enough!

It's been fun, is what I'm saying. Also, don't give advice to job seekers unless you have an actual job to give to them. Thanks, good chat!

I did accomplish one thing the past few months, and that is this:

The surroundings look dreary because February is mud month here, fun

New equipment for our neighborhood tot lot -- the procurement of which fell to me even though I did the same job very badly way back in 2005 -- finally arrived! It looks great and only took me...let's see (checks calendar)...11 MONTHS. 

Folks, this task was so stressful that I considered more than once the option of selling my beloved home and moving to a different town, just to get out from under it. But now, whenever I step out my door, I gaze upon this marvel and take a few satisfied breaths while I try to forget about all the other neighborhood HOA balls I am currently dropping.

Of course, there's also been knitting: a slow pair of socks, plus a pink version of Joji Locatelli's Pure Joy shawl:

Pink is my February color. My new sneakers? Blindingly pink

It felt very satisfying to finish this and wear it nonstop for a week, but you know what would also feel satisfying? A JOB.

The End