My surgery could not have been scheduled at a more inconvenient time. Really could not. Not that there's ever a really GOOD time. I have made lists and sublists and crossed things off lists and added more to the lists. I've lost more of my lists than I care to think about.
On Tuesday, March 27, I have to be at the hospital around noon to get a shot (as in with a needle) of dye so my sentinel node can be tested to see if the cancer has spread (I don't really understand all this - I am just regurgitating what I was told). Since my husband is finishing up his MBA and has a class that night that he really can't miss, my parents are going to fetch me and take me to Springfield for my appointment, just like when I was 7 and got my tonsils out.
To further complicate matters, my daughter has her first track meet that afternoon. Melinda to the rescue - she will go home with her friend Madeline after the track meet and spend the night. My son will go to tennis practice and then spend the night with my husband's parents. My husband will go to class, then drive to Springfield when it's over, spending the night with me in a hotel room that my friend Traci has kindly gotten for us.
After a night of what I suspect will be very little sleep, I have to report at the hospital at 5:30 a.m. I'm pretty sure that I will catch up on my sleep that day, but my major concern is not the surgery, not what they will find, not the risks or complications. My biggest concern right now is the knowledge that this is going to be my last chance to wash my hair and shave my legs and under my arms for DAYS. Thinking some really yummy scented body wash would help thwart my future state of squalor, I was looking forward to using lotion and body wash that was a gift from one of my preschoolers and her mom (shout out to Alex and Joanna). Or that WAS my plan, until the pre-admitting nurse called Friday and told me I had to bathe in some kind of sheep dip the morning of my surgery and could not apply any lotions, powders, perfume or deodorant afterwards. Instead of the lovely springy scent I had hoped for, I will smell like I have been de-loused.
My husband and my parents will be at the hospital during the surgery, apparently a 6-12 hour ordeal. Sucks to be them. I get to sleep....
My husband is going to spend the night with me in my room Wednesday night, then he has to go back to Joplin Thursday morning to finalize his Everyday Heroes lunch for the Red Cross that is scheduled for Friday. (He's only been working on it for, oh, MONTHS.) After my dad's recent hospital stay, I understand the need for someone with a SPINE to stay with you in the hospital and be your advocate. My husband's sister, Kristin, offered to come babysit me that day and night while he is gone. And my friend, Cindy, offered to come Friday morning. I gratefully accepted both offers, not thinking at the time that, with one a nurse and the other a doctor, I was surrounding myself with Nurse Ratcheds who will probably be really mean and make me cough and walk around and stuff like that.
My husband will be there as soon as his event is over, and he will stay with me until they release me, whenever the hell THAT is. When I am released, I will be going to my mom and dad's house in Branson for a few days, because there are no stairs and because my mom will spoil me.
In the meantime, my son has a tennis match in Springfield on Thursday afternoon, my daughter has dance on Wednesday night, volleyball on Thursday night, a track meet on Friday night, and her regional volleyball tournament in Kansas City on Saturday and Sunday. The enormity of getting them where they need to be with all the stuff they need to take with them has nearly done me in.
But after hours of making schedules and lists, I'm not going to worry about it any more. What happens, happens. Instead, I will worry about the important things, like not being able to shave my legs or take a shower....