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Best-Laid Plans

The surgery went great, they got all the cancer out of me, the incision is pretty well healed, and I’ve even gotten half the staples pulled.

And yet, I’m still in the hospital, festooned with drains and on the kind of floor where they check on you every two hours all night.

First there was the vomiting and the N-G tube. Then there was the utterly miserable experience of having a drain installed by people who didn’t do the drugs correctly. Then there was the other drain, put in by a team who didn’t do so badly with the drugs (though nowhere near what I wanted), but absolutely had to put the drain in thru my right butt cheek, thereby eliminating any possible comfortable position. And that’s completely skipping over the potassium wars, the pain med debates, and so many other fun things.

I have some sort of as-yet-identified infection. It’s small: my white blood cell counts are normal, etc, but I’m running a fever. Me and my cancer-free self will be going home as soon as they finish culturing the sample so they can be certain of having the best antibiotic for the job, and when I no longer have a fever.

My role in this is to sleep a lot, walk around regularly (and I finally have permission to go to the bathroom by myself!), and eat a lot, by which I mean nasty grape protein supplements, nasty vanilla general supplements, and meals that vaguely resemble food (I’ve been eating a lot of mashed potatoes).

I’m incredibly tired of being here. Incredibly. But if i leave too early and end up back here, that would just be so much worse.

And hey, no known cancer. I’ll deal with the rest of it.