Ann-Marie is kicking cancer’s ass

(Disclaimer:  This blog is written by Me, Tammy, a devoted friend of Ann-Marie’s, as if it were Ann-Marie, based on what I think she might say today if she was up to it.  This blog is based on real events.)

Tammy is writing this blog today because I am in pain, groggy and wearing cranky pants.  Actually, I am now up and about, moving my arm around like a trooper, doing much better, but this blog entry is almost all written.

So D-day finally arrived and now it is done.  I am officially a one boob wonder, in all of its glory. In whatever ounce of humour I have left today, I just checked my chest over my gown and confirmed that they did do the correct side.  Small mercies.  Nurse Chad said it will take a bit of time to rebalance.

After passing some time in the surgical waiting area, answering a thousand questions with the nurse in a tiny room clearly not sized for the three of us in it, and waiting some more, I said goodbye to Dan and my friend and headed to the OR for surgery (with my cell phone in posession of course).

After it was over, I woke up in the recovery room to WAAAY too much noise and in a looooootttt of pain – probably 8 out of 10.

So what did I do?  I grabbed my phone and started texting people to let them know I was in recovery.  That’s when I got the news that my cancer is in fact in the lymph nodes, as confirmed by the surgeon under the microscope.  This means that more surrounding nodes were removed and that I am going to need chemo.

Not the news we were hoping for of course.  But it is what it is. I guess Tammy will be cooking some more meals for me in the near future.

So, I was moved to my room – semi-private.  Which you would think is a notable improvement from a ward room – but the ear-piercing, 1000 dB voice of the adjacent patient’s nurse, and the Grand Central Station of family chatter from the bed beside me is almost unbearable at times.

Thankfully nurse Chad is wonderfully nice and offered to speak with the nurse after she left. He is also the Gravol and Morphine administering angel that is trying to me make me as comfortable as possible.

Chad showed me my drains, explained that I may be discharged tomorrow if my bladder cooperates, and let me know a bit about the home care service I will get over the next several days.

In the meantime, I told Dan to stop staring at me, my friend to sit down, and they know I am my usual feisty (well bit$#y is the actual word I use) self and that I am going to get through it all.