I’ve been home for almost 30 hours and awake for perhaps four of them.
I’m in good hands. Mom, Bobby, the boys and our friends are allowing time to move forward while I slow down and recover. I slept in the recliner downstairs with B close by on the couch.
It’s early Sunday morning, and I have already made a new friend. Don’t ask me her name, but she is awesome. She is my home health nurse.
I knew she was coming. I planned to wake up early, shower, put on a cute pink post-mastectomy outfit and eat breakfast. I even wanted my medications working their magic before she rang the doorbell.
Instead, I awoke to a stranger smiling over me as I attempted to sit up, half-dressed and wiping drool from the side of my face.
There is no time for vanity.
My nurse, like so many nurses, is a gem. She begins my day by reassuring me that I’m healing.
I’m tired today. Exhausted, really. I take medication for nausea, and AJ wants to watch a show with me, but I don’t even make it through the opening credits.
I will temporarily be walking with a cane. I’m using muscles to stand that my body is not accustomed to using. Two hours later, I take more medication and I’m out again.
Bobby fashions a shower chair for me from a laundry hamper. The shower feels so good that I stay until I’m wrinkly and the hot water runs cold.
Clean body, clean drains and cute pink post-mastectomy clothes. I opt for a change of scenery and spend some time in bed. I attempt to watch another show with AJ, but I can’t resist the comfort of my own bed and once again fail to stay awake.
I miss spending time with the kid. Even while I sleep, he stays.
The day is now turning into evening, and we are waiting for dinner from one of our amazing friends and neighbors. Mom wants to watch American Idol.
Our evening is planned!
XOXO,
Lisa
Why me? Why Not? 