9 days post DIEP
I had my third to last Herceptin infusion today. When I sat down, the nurse boggled at my left arm and shoulder. I had a lot of tape remnants from my shoulder to my hand. I’ve tried removing it every time I shower, but honestly, it was low on my priorities. If I couldn’t scratch it off, I gave up. My nurse, once she accessed my port without me feeling it (magic!) and hooked up the Herceptin, and I explained why I had so much adhesive on me, she went to the front desk, grabbed something, and then came right back and gave me some goo-gone pads.
So, I spent a good 15 minutes getting the adhesive off my left arm. I’ll tackle the squares on my stomach later. Maybe. I have so much glue on me, I’m pretty ambivalent about it. It gave me something to do during the longest 90 minutes of my day.
I’ve been cranky today. I’m uncomfortable in my skin today. I long to lay on my stomach. (CONFESSION: I tried to lay on my stomach. I managed it for a minute. Then, I got stuck. Adjustable bed to the rescue!) My drains are on my nerves. I wore a nice, comfortable, cotton maxi dress to treatment and semi-hid the drains by attaching them to seams on the inside of the dress using safety pins, but the ones of my left side were kind of obvious.
I had to wait almost an hour after I checked in to be called back for my infusion. In my crankiness, the wait grated on me. I ranted about it on Facebook. My mother texted me, innocently enough, asking how I was doing, and I replied that I’m a thousand percent over everything and hate cancer. She texted back, very diplomatically, that she loves me very much and is happy to do whatever I need her to do, including doing nothing.
She knows me well. I’m the contradictory child. I need to be social and to have solitude. She knows endless days of needing help and being around people all the time wears on me, and I turn into the person annoyed by everything. She knows I need space when I hit this point. Very few people in my life get that about me. My mom and dad. My husband. My mother in law. My oldest/longest friend. They get it. They get I’m not wallowing in misery. I’m just annoyed.
My abdominal incision is the source of most of my annoyance right now (my drains are the other part). It doesn’t hurt anymore. My pain level from it is a zero, but oh my gosh, the pressure/tightness from where my skin was yanked down and stitched and glued just sucks. I know it’ll get better. Eventually. And, I’m really glad it doesn’t hurt like it did this time last week. I mean, this time last week I was nauseous and in pain. Not the best experience!
I meant what I texted my mom. Today, in my crankiness, I’m a thousand percent over cancer and my seat on the cancer coaster. I’m so over this. When I look back over the last twelve months, I know I haven’t been my best, but I sure haven’t been my worst. All things considered, I feel like I’ve handled this as well as I could.