Last night, I let an older, married womym touch me. She had me dress up in clothes just for her. She shackled my legs to the bed. With my consent (see, Bill Cosby? totally doable!), she lavished me with drugs that warmed me, calmed me, then soon knocked me out. I don’t know everything she did to me while I was asleep, but upon waking, my body hummed in certain places, and that humming confirmed one undeniable fact: Last night, I clearly got some sweet, sweet boob action.
I was admitted back into the hospital last night. The cellulitis/staph infection still hadn’t cleared; plus, it was oozing, aching, and purplish in color. Hyperbarics staff tried to put me back into the hospital on Friday, then again on Monday with the additional urging of Dr. Dhillon, who is the Hyperbarics Medical Director; and Dr. Yah, who is both married to Dr. Walsh and a fellow coworker at Forma Plastic Surgery. Each time, though, I stood my ground, and they found it difficult to win with me.
But in the end, they brought out the big guns: Dr. Molly Walsh herself. She answered my questions, leveled with me, and made it clear that she wasn’t asking permission: she was going in. That was at 2:00pm. At 4:30, I was in her operating room, watching the bright room fade into dark tranquility.
Here’s what I know:
- The skin in my right chest area is so thin, so tight, and so damaged by radiation that it can’t heal itself. It’s a bunny breeding ground for infections, and then the bunny community forms a bully circle around its victim, refusing to allow any outsiders to come in and help defuse the situation. This happens to many breast cancer survivors, especially those going through reconstruction as part of their journey.
- From Thursday- Tuesday, Antibiotic Zyvox snuck in through the front door and dismantled one of their weapons: the Fever. The Tactical Department was grateful … but also a little disappointed; it held the apparently incorrect assumption that Zyvox had more tricks up its sleeve.
- Amputation is, at this point, a very real threat, and she lurks in the shadows like a Peeping Tom, just waiting for the perfect time to pounce and make her move. I already lost the original appendage during a battle back in November. Doctors did all they could then but eventually replaced the severed body part with a prosthesis that later led to making heads (men’s and womyns’) turn. Unfortunately, the body didn’t respond so well to this foreigner (she’s a bit judgmental, unfortunately), so she allowed this battlefield to become overrun by germs and sickness, while driving out any local businesses that could have been resources later.
- When Dr. Walsh operated yesterday, she removed the expander, cleaned the insides, and then thoroughly searched for pus pockets. Had she found pus pockets that were multiple and/or entrenched, she would have gone no further; she would have removed the expander, put nothing in its place, allowed the skin to close in on itself, and made a mental note to process with a devestated, bawling patient in a couple months as to why reconstruction on the right side can’t/shouldn’t be done.
- A medical alert card sitting in my room indicates that I do, indeed, have a silicone, memory gel in there – crisis (temporarily) averted.
- I am hoping to leave the hospital by Friday. Dr. Walsh and Dr. Dhillan have made it clear that I can go home once the wound is draining properly,and the swelling has gone noticeably down.