CW: Cancer stuff, boy am I tired edition.
So I’m sitting on the couch and I’m sort of trying to write but it’s not going especially well. I did some administrivia and answered some relevant emails, which was like productivity. We’ve punted to grinders for dinner and honestly I am pretty happy with that because I am just exhausted.
I seem to have a minor ear infection or something. Saw my PCP about it today: she didn’t seem overly concerned. I have ear drops. I have had blocked Eustachian tubes before and always been able to resolve them with hot compresses, antihistamines, and the usual applications of tea tree oil and the Valsalva Maneuver but this one is a stubborn bastard.
Meanwhile, yesterday I had to go back in to get the seroma drained again, surgically this time, as the infection started to recur when I finished the antibiotics. So now I have a draining wound that needs to be re-dressed about four times a day. And apparently my body has just decided that enough is enough, because simply getting to the doctor and picking up groceries that somebody else packed was enough to flatten me.
So, now I have an open incision again, which means radiation is delayed, and it would have been delayed anyway because the oncotype still isn’t back. (Current ETA: November 22. So everything except dealing with the seroma is on hold until after Thanksgiving basically, which means that the radiation is going to run over into next year, which means A NEW DEDUCTIBLE, YAY.)
I’m just grateful to have decent health coverage and be able to afford it. Thanks, Obama. Thanks, Romney. Thanks to the Patreon/Substack subscribers among all y’all, who are basically covering my and Scott’s health insurance currently. I’m deeply grateful for the support.
And for all the love and offers of help from everybody. You’re amazing, and one thing about cancer (as I was telling my therapist last week) is that I have never felt so loved and supported in my life. If I ever needed to know I was valued, a serious illness certainly brought that home.
Gross bits follow, so feel free to check out now if you don’t want them. (They’re not THAT gross. But I used to work in a hospital, so my standards of gross are skewed.)
The pleasant part of this minor surgical complication I am enduring is that I got to see Dr. Rose and Nurse Jenn again yesterday. They are rapidly becoming two of my favorite people on the planet. They’re both gentle and extremely kind, and I find my sense of humor is a good match for theirs, which is something I really want in a health care provider.
Dry humor is my coping mechanism. (My therapist: “It’s okay to actually let yourself have the feeling for a few minutes before you reframe it to find the positive and make a wry joke about it, you know.” Me: “Are you saying I don’t have to be a stoic Swedish Yankee about everything?” My therapist: “maybe not everything. Try being more Italian! We make a fuss about everything!” Me: “…busted.”)
Anyway, from yesterday’s visit, without further ado—
Dr. Rose: “We’re not going to bother with a culture since we did one already and we know it’s that basically friendly staph*. The seroma is already coming to a head, as you noticed.”
Me: “Yeah, I can feel it in there tunneling out.”
Dr. Rose: “Well, they’re pretty inefficient at these escape attempts. Generally they will form a fistula and then it’ll close and open and close and open a bunch of times, and that’s painful. So I’m just going to make a small incision along your scar and then we’ll keep the wound open and just let it drain.”
Me: “Will I have to irrigate it?”
Dr. Rose: “No, that would be a really awkward spot to get to. I’ll pack it, and you’ll come back next week to get it checked. Just change the dressings a lot. You can shower normally. ”
(He then goes on to explain the packing procedure and the three different philosophies of How Your Pack A Wound and which one he’s using, and why. Reader, I love a nerd.)
So, he gave me a little anesthetic and made a small incision (I did feel it—about as painful as stepping on a lego brick) and boy did I geyser some serosanguinous fluid all over the place.
Dr. Rose: “Well, I guess I should have gotten a pan.”
Nurse Jenn: **does not say I told you so.**
So I’m draining and tired and out of sorts and this darn ear is driving me crazy. But tomorrow is another day.
Hope you’re having a better week than I am!
Best,
Bear
*my culture came back with an S. lugdunensis that is susceptible to nearly everything, including sulfa drugs. As my husband said when I told him, “1943 called, it wants its pathogen back.” Also, Dr. Rose couldn’t pronounce the name on the first try and neither could I, despite having worked in microbiology for a while, so I feel special.