once more, with feeling

I was put under the robot-held knife the morning of July 22, four days ago. My sister Julie drove down from GA to be with me, so she had the honor of making sure I arrived at the hospital promptly at 5:30 am. I was all ready with my big girl pants to get the IV in the crook of my arm, but to my surprise (and surprisingly, my horror) the nurse wanted to put it in my hand. Before long, I had a double-dose of Versed and was vaguely aware of being asked to take deep breaths.

In recovery, they told me I had to wake up, and I heard them talking, saying that I was taking a while to come out of it. But once I did wake up and notice the time, it wasn't too much after 11; the surgery must not have taken too long. They got me in a chair and gave me apple juice and Saltine crackers. I had talked to Dr M ahead of time about not wanting to take Percocet, so he prescribed LorTabs for me instead. The nurse had me take one, but it made me feel sick so since then I've taken just Tylenol.

I'm told that Dr M was able to remove the entire "offending" mass, which includes a lymph node or two. It must also have included some nerves, because now I have a spot on my right thigh, about the size of my hand, where I feel absolutely nothing at all. It disturbs me, this, but I'll get over it. He also took some fluid from an ovarian cyst.

So now, random samples of my innards have been forwarded on to what I can only assume is a top-notch team of crack pathologists that will work night and day to find out what is vexing me. And I shall find out at my follow-up appointment on August 2nd. Until then, I'm left to wait. And so are you...