Post Lumpectomy: Day 5

Over the past 24 hours, I've developed a mildly annoying cough, and I'm really glad I've had so many scans so I can feel fairly confident that it's just a cold and not, you know, metastasis. That, and I have a sore throat, too. Throat cancer? Unlikely. LOL. Occam's razor, baby.

Unfortunately, I realized today that this entire ordeal is not going to be good for my hypochondria, because for the rest of my life I will be convinced that I have cancer and that it is killing me. (And hopefully this won't actually be the case.) And the sort of weird thing about my particular type of hypochondria is that it is not true hypochondria, because usually when I am convinced there is something wrong with me, there actually is. I only joke that I'm a hypochondriac because I spend so much time worrying that I think there is something wrong with me, when there really isn't, that I actually don't go to see a doctor very often, because I figure that I'm just being a hypochondriac (when in reality, I'm not).* In a way it is like reverse hypochondria, sort of like the reverse placebo effect, which is my made up term for describing the fact that whenever I finally make a doctor's appointment, I start to feel better. 

Kudos to you if you followed that.

* As evidence of this, I present to you: cancer! After discovering the lump and consulting with Dr. Google, I did not feel good about the prognosis, even though everyone convinced me that I am way too young and way too Asian to have breast cancer. Fortunately, I decided to see the doctor, just to ease my hypochondriac feelings. 

Anyway, today was an utterly useless day. My family is still off camping, and I pretty much feel like crap - more because of my cold than surgery, I think. Fortunately, I was able to lie around and do nothing all day, and I didn't even feel that bad about it, because I sort of feel like I deserve a day of lying around and doing nothing. Aside from my arm, I feel pretty normal. But I've sort of stopped caring about the pain from surgery going away, knowing that it just going to be back when I have my second surgery in, like, a week. So whatever. I am such a ball of joy today, aren't I? I know I am getting back to normal because I am a) SUPER CRANKY and b) able to drink alcoholic beverages again. 

My appetite is also slowly returning, so hopefully by tomorrow I can cross anorexia off my list of potential ailments, haha. But the stress of the past few weeks combined with the GI distress from the past week did at least allow me to finally drop the five pounds I can usually only lose if I stop drinking (which my friends and family agree is no fun). Silver linings, silver linings. But speaking of weight, here is an absurd but true story. I had to get weighed before surgery, which seems fairly important, right? So they don't put you under with a dose of medication meant for a 300-pound person? And I can understand why they don't just take your word for how much you weigh, because everyone lies about that, and it's probably hard to judge a person's weight when she is wearing a surgical gown that is meant for, well, a 300-pound person. Anyway, I stepped on the scale, and because hospitals are finally trying to join the rest of the world and use the metric system, the weight is in kilograms. The nurse immediately chimed in to let me know, 'That's kilograms, not pounds.' LOL! Yes, yes, I am aware that I have lost some weight in the past few weeks, but HELLO! I also realize that I do not weigh 60 pounds!! Okay, so maybe that was one of those 'had to be there' things.

Finally, I got a really sweet delivery of four bottles of wine today, from my BFF from college, with a note that said: If I lived closer, I'd bring over my favorite wine every time you needed a little cheering up. Since I can't be there in person I'm sending this so you can know my thoughts and love are with you all the time. Thank you so much RAJ! XOXO! And I will 'see' you all tomorrow.