We Had To Share

This past week my family took to heart all that they learned in kindergarten, share and share alike.

Only it was a rotten head cold. Ava got it, shared with the Muffin Man, who gave a mild case to Liv and then because no one truly likes to be left out...someone shared it with me despite the fact that I wouldn't touch anyone in this house without a clorox wipe first. The kids have rebounded nicely. My husband and I, not as much. Craptastic.

When I last reported in, I believe I was all excited about getting off the cul-de-sac, kissing my car while seated in the driver's seat, and a visit to my plastic surgeon for more foob juice, or saline fill as he likes to call it. That was a week ago. I can spare the gory details but I will say all that sunshine and roses stuff you can read on any plastic surgeon's website about how reconstruction using implants to stretch the muscle and skin are most often tolerated very well by patients. Sometimes patients will take a couple of tylenol if they are uncomfortable. Tylenol...right, maybe mixed with a little codeine and a pair of gin and tonics.

Who writes this? It's clearly some band of merry brothers plastic surgeon team who has never had the pleasure of this experience. Suffice it to say, a couple of tylenol wasn't cutting the mustard. The mastectomy was a trip to Disney compared to expansion.

But, onward and upward. Chin up. Back straight and foobs up. Goals, goals will make me feel orderly and in charge.

Goals for this week.

1. Summon immune system to conquer head cold.
2. Appear in kitchen promptly at 4pm to start something in the kitchen that will ultimately resemble dinner by 6ish. Or grab something from freezer at 5:30. Don't want to aim too high too quickly.
3. Brow beat children into making their own beds. The stretching and bending required to make beds doesn't agree with my temporary physical shortcomings.
4. Download more library books on ipad. This is making me happy, lots of time to read library books on ipad.
5. Show up appearing sane and well adjusted at next foob fill appointment which is scheduled for Thursday. The thought of ranting and raving to plastic surgeon about how much this part of the process seems to me like being drawn and quartered while showing him the ugly cry, doesn't appeal to me. It might end up in my permanent record. I will smile sweetly, and go home to big drugs if needed.

There it is, a week's recap and goals for immediate future stated. Tomorrow the girls get a new Tae Kwon Do belt. I will take pictures and share. We might have to register their little hands as lethal weapons soon. Now THAT is family fun.


Updated: After consulting both Dr. Internet and the nurse at my plastic surgeon's office, it appears that some folks tolerate the expansion process a little better than others. Everyone is different. My right breast with it's 33 radiation treatments 11 years ago probably isn't doing me any favors in this process right now. This was the site of most of the pain. And, now I have muscle relaxers in my small arsenal. Whew.

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