I'm at home

I've been back at the house for a day. So far, I'm doing pretty good - I feel a little lopsided, since I've no boob on the right side now. Just rolls of skin wrapped around a tube that hangs down to a Jackson-Pratt drain, which is essentially a bulb syringe. The syringe itself is suspended around my neck on a cotton loop, and just hangs by my side in a pouch my sister-in-law made for me. Every few hours or so I have to empty the syringe and measure the lymphatic fluid draining from the site. Remember, they took my lymph nodes as well as my breast, so that whole area is draining while it heals.

The hysterectomy site is where most of the pain is coming from. I'm strong enough to deal with both of the surgeries, and frankly, the pain I have is not bad, thanks to my friend Vicodin:) It helps get me through the sharpness of some of the abdominal cut and as long as I take it slow, I do pretty well. I kinda move along like Granny Grumps, as my friend Vera used to call it - makes me smile to remember he saying that.

Father Dan called around 2 today. What a surreal experience! We were discussing the Sacrament of the Sick for me and when we might do it. Talking to him suddenly pulls the covers off of me for a little while - I'm raw, revealing what I'm truly thinking and feeling and tears welled up almost immediately as I heard his voice.

It reminds me of my Aunt Mary. You may have heard me talk about her before - Aunt Mary was my grandmother on my mom's side. I was the first grandchild and the word "grandma" made her feel old, so she insisted, much to my mother's disgust, that I call her "Aunt Mary." It stuck and my siblings and I were her only grandchildren that called her that, while the rest of the grand kids were told to call her grandma whether she liked it or not!

Well, Aunt Mary was deathly afraid of dying. Really... Scared the crap out of her. She became a widow in 1978 when my grandfather ("Grandpa" - he was my only normal grandparent!) unexpectedly died of a heart attack (and of course there's a story about that, but you'll have to wait for another entry to get it!). She had lots of anxiety about the final moments.

In 2000, Aunt Mary had congestive heart failure and it was serious enough for her to be put in the hospital. I come from a medical family - she was an RN as well as my mom and my aunt Janice, so everyone is pretty frank about things. Mom called me up and told me things didn't look good and that I should probably book a flight to Fresno, and maybe I should call my brother John, who also lives in Houston.

John and I both got tickets using American Express points. I travel to Fresno often to see the family, but John can't get there as easily since he's highly fertile and has kids everywhere, so the California portion of the family doesn't see him very often. So it was a pleasant surprise that he could go. We arrived at the hospital and were greeted by my Uncle Allan who was very
concerned that we would strain Aunt Mary, and that we should go in one by one.

I should mention that no one had told her we were coming. So, when she saw me walk into the room, she started crying... it had to be bad if I'd made the trip. I held her while she cried and told her how much I loved her and calmed her down.

Then John came in and Aunt Mary started crying very hard... if JOHN had flown out, things HAD TO BE BAD! She was unconsolable and we had a terrible time calming her down.

There was a third surprise however - My mom had made arrangements for the hospital priest to come give Aunt Mary the sacrament of the sick. Aunt Mary was a devout Catholic and Mom thought it would be a good thing for her to go through the sacrament. The priest walked into the room and Aunt Mary totally lost it... She practically ran out of the hospital at the first opportunity and went on to live for another 4 years. I don't know if she ever got the sacrament...

So, when Father Dan called to talk about giving me the sacrament, amazingly I had the same
feeling. "OhMyGod... this is so real! I have CANCER!" I'd been through hours of surgery, days of recovery in the hospital, limping around the house, bossing around my husband (and wow has that made me popular) but it took the priest calling for me to finally getting it through my head that something was wrong! AAAAARRRGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

But the sacrament isn't Last Rites anymore. It's a prayer by the faithful, using annointing of oil, to call on the Holy Spirit to heal the sick person, and I'm all over that... bring it on! It's going to be next Sunday at UH, where Charles and I were married 16 years ago.

I've not quite gone running screaming out of the house at the call, but it's certainly popped me in the butt, so to speak and woke me up. Holy Spirit, Buddha, Krishna, Allah, Buddy Jesus - all of
the above, you're officially invited to my celebration of the sacrament next sunday - I'll give you front row seats!!