Preliminaries

Every day when I am at work, there comes a point in the day when I stop and think "Dammit, it's gotta be close to time to get out of here. I'm tired, I'm cranky and I don't want to do one more menial task." And low and behold I look at the clock and it reads 3:00 p.m.

Which means it's not only NOT time to fucking go home, but I've got a solid 3 hours left of this shit. And that? Blows goat.

A lot. Remember, as my uncle once said, "bad things happen to farm animals". That means nothing, except that my mother said it at an inappropriate moment this last weekend and while I was groaning, she made me laugh. The fact that she says things like that in front of people that are not part of our family is single handedly her cutest and not cutest trait. Gotta love her.

So while I'm sitting here, privately railing against "the man" and wishing I were home with a cold one, why not start hacking away at your questions.

First Allie wanted to know:

"Were you grossed out emptying the drains or did Jason do it for you? I was at first when I had to do it for Luis after he had his lymph nodes taken out, I got used to it though. I was just wondering because when they first told me I had to do it I thought I was going to throw up."

Gag, Allie. Big time gag. No drains for me. I know what you are talking about but I had no drains. But I can answer this and DPH's question of :

"Ummmm, I just want to know WTF the tubes were in the pic that I saw?"

Now, she is just tempting you with the fact that she is hooked up enough to have seen a snap of my ta's. Anyhow, those tubes were the catheters that I had going into each breast that were then hooked into a deliciously unattractive fanny pack that held God's little gift of pain meds. I walked around for 3 days looking like some kind of Hulk Hogan loving tourist with that freaking thing on, only to have to pull out my catheters on Sunday morning. And those things were at least 2-3 inches in. The worst part was removing the tape, but I was not a fan of the blood and I'll admit, my wussy self had to sit down to keep from passing out as I did it.

Lisa commented:

"Did it hurt more than you thought it would? Scale of to ten, how bad (that's the nurse in me)was it the first few days?"

You are a nurse! In the recovery room my first answer to them was a "4 or 5". Which was fantastic. Given that I had that awesome pain system, it was totally manageable and I was out shopping the very next morning. Not something I recommend but my kid needed clothes and I wanted to go. Without that, I can only assume that it would have been extremely painful. Now, after I went to my first follow-up visit with my doctor, I swear he tried to rip my left one off. It hurts when my sutures get stuck or I pull myself the wrong way, but other than that... not too bad.

And then I can talk directly to Doc and J at the same time:

When describing them, I don't use "squishy" or "hard", I do use "sloshy" a lot.

I swear I can feel them move. They feel squeaky too. They are getting softer by the day and I only hope the sloshiness comes to an end, because I don't think anyone believes me.

Oh and J-Nasty - My clothes don't fit better, so far? Now things that fit in my chest are too big in my waist. And dresses that used to be "a-line" now look grossly obscene on me but I'm working it out.

Stay tuned...