My mom went with me to the last pre-op appointment before reconstruction. It was after all the carpool, parent teacher conference, wind current demonstration for C, YW, Baby watching by my mom and mother-in-law, my husband's job, the before surgery blessing scheduled, the Wicked Good 5k had been run and all other arrangements had been made. Emotionally, and as far as I could prepare physically, I was so ready to have surgery the next day.
The doctor came in and said I was not ready. The port incision/burn had not healed to the point that the doctor felt comfortable making more cuts in my chest, and I was allergic to Neosporin.
He asked if there were any changes I needed to make in my arrangements. The same doctor who told me I would probably be unable to lift Baby for three weeks was wondering about the arrangements I had made.
Meanwhile my mom thought things were taking awhile, but seemed to be going okay as everyone was saying my name and rushing around.
In the end calls were made, arrangements were changed, and of course all the physical things were much easier to adjust than the emotional toll. My mom opted to stay up with us until Friday, because I had another appointment that day to see if the following Tuesday would be feasible for surgery.
The next few days were a whirlwind of walking with my mom and trying to do everything possible to not remember that I was not recovering from surgery, that I did not know when I would have surgery, and I was once again I wondering "how can this be?"
The doctor came in and said I was not ready. The port incision/burn had not healed to the point that the doctor felt comfortable making more cuts in my chest, and I was allergic to Neosporin.
He asked if there were any changes I needed to make in my arrangements. The same doctor who told me I would probably be unable to lift Baby for three weeks was wondering about the arrangements I had made.
Meanwhile my mom thought things were taking awhile, but seemed to be going okay as everyone was saying my name and rushing around.
In the end calls were made, arrangements were changed, and of course all the physical things were much easier to adjust than the emotional toll. My mom opted to stay up with us until Friday, because I had another appointment that day to see if the following Tuesday would be feasible for surgery.
The next few days were a whirlwind of walking with my mom and trying to do everything possible to not remember that I was not recovering from surgery, that I did not know when I would have surgery, and I was once again I wondering "how can this be?"
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