Lying in bed, reminiscing about my time with Seb earlier in the week. Ah I wish he was still here. Am plotting a trip to see him. Will book a hotel though: can’t stay with him just in case he is still sleeping on a reed mat on the floor, as in his monastery days. Anyway: will be more pleasant in a hotel. Don’t really like staying with people unless is, say, parental friends in pleasant accommodation.
Wake up in the middle of the night: have become allergic to the dressings over my biopsy wounds.
“Are you allergic to anything?” The nurse says on Friday, as I lie on the operating table.
“Yes: various dressings,” I say, as my surgeon wipes the blood away that drips down my chest and presses a star of white steri-strips over the deep hole.
“Are the papery ones ok?” The nurse says.
“Think so,” I say. “It’s the plastic ones that are the problem.”
“Let’s just put a plastic one over the top to make it waterproof,” she says, pressing a layer of cling-film over the dressing. “No one’s injected to these.”
And it’s this tight plastic that is irritating my skin. Looking at my watch, it’s midnight. Pulling off the plastic, I hunt for some fabric plasters and then press them over the two steri-strip stars. Hope that haven’t introduced an infection. Had to remove those dressings though. Whole chest is itchy and red.
This morning the itching has lessened and the redness is starting to fade. Fingers crossed that won’t develop an infection and that the wounds will heal. Right arm is a bit swollen: possible lymphoedema. Have to massage it and keep it elevated. Am upset as so far have avoided this unpleasant complication caused by removal of lymph nodes. At least, so far, it is mild. Some of the photos online are horrific.
Happy Sunday everyone!
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 