Friday, April 21, 2006
so I didn't take my computer into hospital and post from there. so sue me.
now I'm home and moving quite gingerly, but without a drain tube thing (yay!) and protected by my electronic walls (no need to make calls/answer emails if I don't feel like it). have to pick A. up in two hours, and will probably try to unpack before then.
going back into hospital was slightly surreal; it's so much like an international flight. the early wakeup, the taxi through dawn streets, the queue to check in, the smiling (this was a private hospital after all) uniformed assistants telling me what would be happening. the oxygen deprivation, and in the end, waking up in a different place. not the same, of course, are the embarrassing won't-do-up-at-the-back-gown and the texta marks all over my chest.
so I have a right breast. sort of. it's covered in gauze and does not have a nipple, and will need further pumping up (right now it's swollen though) and "nipple construction" - ooh baby! I can't swim, or lift objects, or etc for weeks, and I have to be very careful A. doesn't bump me. one operation down, two to go.
A. came to visit me twice, like the good son he is, and each time as I watched him cheerfully toddle out the door, I thought how awful it would be to be in hospital dying, not able to go home to him in a couple of days. and I had serious doubts about the baby #2 plan. we'll see.
meanwhile, am laying plans to turn 40 with a bang later this month; including flaunting whatever cleavage I have in a silly dress at some point.
now I'm home and moving quite gingerly, but without a drain tube thing (yay!) and protected by my electronic walls (no need to make calls/answer emails if I don't feel like it). have to pick A. up in two hours, and will probably try to unpack before then.
going back into hospital was slightly surreal; it's so much like an international flight. the early wakeup, the taxi through dawn streets, the queue to check in, the smiling (this was a private hospital after all) uniformed assistants telling me what would be happening. the oxygen deprivation, and in the end, waking up in a different place. not the same, of course, are the embarrassing won't-do-up-at-the-back-gown and the texta marks all over my chest.
so I have a right breast. sort of. it's covered in gauze and does not have a nipple, and will need further pumping up (right now it's swollen though) and "nipple construction" - ooh baby! I can't swim, or lift objects, or etc for weeks, and I have to be very careful A. doesn't bump me. one operation down, two to go.
A. came to visit me twice, like the good son he is, and each time as I watched him cheerfully toddle out the door, I thought how awful it would be to be in hospital dying, not able to go home to him in a couple of days. and I had serious doubts about the baby #2 plan. we'll see.
meanwhile, am laying plans to turn 40 with a bang later this month; including flaunting whatever cleavage I have in a silly dress at some point.
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Congratulations! Very glad it went well. I hope you heal quickly and easily...
Oh, and definitely flaunt it. It's about time those breasts gave you some fun instead of grief, right?
Oh, and definitely flaunt it. It's about time those breasts gave you some fun instead of grief, right?
I'm glad the operation went well and I hope you have a quick recovery.
Happy last month of being 39.
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Happy last month of being 39.
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