A journey
This is what it looks like when you screw up your lymphedema bandaging.
Believe it or not, the left hand looks a lot better than it did at 9 am, when there was no knuckle definition at all.
The ARM looks great. But it’s because I sent lymph down to hand instead of up. I thought bandage across hand was tight enough but clearly it wasn’t.
And FINGERS look good. Just palm and wrist (outside).
A year ago today, we (Mike, Maurie, Dixie and me) were at UW Medical Center for my lumpectomy. Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary: I truly had no memory of this link. Nor do I remember much about last June 29th – except that was when the oxycodone headache manifested.
Monday my lymphedema was officially diagnosed.
Like most fear/worry, it’s the anticipation that’s the worst bit.
My maiden visit to Olympus Spa post-mastectomy was a lovely afternoon.
I seem to have forgotten Dale Carnegie’s advice about worry:
Continue reading “Kicking worry and anxiety to the curb, one-day-at-a-time”
Last treatment was the 19th. Half of my chest is obviously healing. One-quarter is obviously not healing and may be worse (slightly swollen/puffy and always hot).
So I went to SCCA Proton Center today. They confirmed that it was good to come in.
Today was my last proton therapy treatment! The machine decided to remind me of day one: the first (of four) treatments took 20+ minutes (instead of <5). It really doesn’t like low barometric pressure/rain.
Like Monday, I took a nap this afternoon, although today’s treatment didn’t kick my ass like yesterday’s.
Today was 23-of-28 days of proton therapy. I’ve been wearing no shirt whenever possible the past week because it feels better. I worked from home today for that reason.
I took a shower a half hour ago; the area along the sternum now hurts like a sonuvabitch. It hurts to put the lotion on it.
Everything stings – and it’s a hot bzzzzt sting.
I know how much worse it is today than five days ago. I can’t even imagine what next Tuesday will feel like.
After seven treatments (21 to go) at Seattle Proton Therapy Center, I’ve learned patience and humor are key.
I keep reminding myself that there’s a particle accelerator somewhere “up there” and that the physics alone should make this awesome. But awesome doesn’t keep the blood flowing to my left arm when I’m stuck in an awkward “don’t move” position for a half-hour while the techs coax the machine out of a work stoppage!