First things first, while the Brobe is pretty much the best thing ever, it’s hot here in Texas, and I barely slept last night. It was Katy Perry’s Hot and Cold in our house last night for me. Sweat. Chills. Twitches. Kitty crazies as 2 am. I did not rest at all. So, even though I planned on being active today, the only activity that happened was me putting on yoga pants and a tshirt to walk outside to get the mail and walk around the inside of the house. I stuck my drains in the pockets of my yoga pants. Then, I fell asleep until one of my BFFs texted me at 3:30. The only part of me that experienced any activity after that were my fingers as we texted. At 7:30 pm, A decided I needed to get out of the house and drove me to see the progress on our new house. I managed to walk the first floor, but after that, we had to go.
It’s just too damned hot and humid. My body was like, “Yo, I don’t mean to cramp your style and all, but you’re recovering from cancer and a massive surgery, so maybe you could chill and go back home?”
We came home.
I went to change back into my Brobe and had visions of another night of sweating. The Brobe is wonderful. Amazing. I love it. I love my student’s mom who gave it to me. It has a lot of fabric, though. And, it’s hot. Then, I remembered: I bought myself Velcro detachable drain pockets back in January preparing for my mastectomy. They attach to the fabric band on my post-surgery bra. I’ve been strictly forbidden from wearing bras, but that’s fine. I don’t need the bra. The pockets attach using Velcro. I have tons of cotton tank tops from Old Navy. In a stroke of genius (it feels that way, okay? Having three drains coming out of your thighs is ridiculous to manage.), I put on one of the tanks, A helped attach the pockets, dubiously, I might add, and we dropped the drains in those pockets.
Hallelujah! Comfort! It all worked to my plan. Nothing is sticking to me! I’m not sweating. I’m actually really comfortable.
I’m telling you, it’s the little things. I’m 7 days post DIEP. I’ve been home for 2 and 1/2 days. What’s making me happy? Drain pockets.
My children are going stir crazy. I feel for them. I really do. I know they need some time at the park, in a pool, or somewhere indoor where they can run around and be kids. I can’t do it, though. They know it and understand it. They’re still going crazy, though. I have so little stamina. I have more than what I had right after the mastectomy, but man…by 8 pm, I’m done. I lose the will to stand up straight and succumb to the hunched over walk. Then, I berate myself because walking like that makes my neck hurt.
The one thing I’m actually doing very well is not feeling guilty for needing help or needing to sloth in bed. I need to recover so I can be the wife, mom, daughter/cousin/aunt/sister, friend, and teacher I want to be for however long I have left on this mortal coil. I can’t do that if I don’t allow myself to take it easy.
So, I’m taking it easy, which means I ended up napping for hours again today when I should have been sitting up in a chair in the living room, or walking around the house, or playing with my children, or writing lesson plans, or…or…or.
The ors will come faster if I’m kind to myself now, so guilt be damned. I’m going to be selfish for a few more days. I’m going to be kind to myself.
And, I’m going to continue celebrating these drain pockets.