Well I’ve just had my first glass of wine since my surgery so this may go a little squiffy…
Am having my stitch out tomorrow. Just the one. It’s to try and stop my scar from keloiding like some other scars I have. It’s horrible. My biopsy scar, which should be invisible, is currently an inch long and half an inch wide.
My newest one is showing the same fate.
It’s like the universe having another cruel laugh at me. So, to calm my nerves about what to find, I use a tried and tested combination of wine + Gibbs.
Leroy Jethro
Gibbs. NCIS. A discovery whilst on holiday in Taba in 2007. During siesta time of course.Â
Been besotted every since. Always had a bit of a crush on Mark Harmon since Chicago Hope but Gibbs – he’s my man and makes everything all okay.
Okay, to be fair I have a few men on my list.Â
Some are getting a bit old now and others make me feel like a cougar.Â
Hubby knows and is okay with it. But they each serve a different purpose. Or maybe the same, depending on my mood….
I digress.
Counting Days
So once the stitch is out it’s another waiting game. Waiting for the lab results of the stuff torn out of my bleeding breast last week. I know, its a bit dramatic but its justified.Â
I’m trying to be positive and carry on but there are other things I’m definitely holding back on doing. Just in case.
Just in case the biopsies were wrong and the little bugger was invasive all the time. I hate this.Â
Its like a fortnightly lottery. What prize will I win this week?
Last time I knew where I stood from the get go. Invasive.Â
Zoladex to shut down ovaries so I could still have kids (didn’t work), chemo to shrink the tumour (worked), cold cap to keep my hair (only worked a bit) surgery (worked) and radiotherapy. A long drawn out process but I knew from day one what was going to happen. I had a plan.
Well I didn’t. My team did. My 2 BFFS did and I just did what they told me. Couldn’t have got through it without them. One unfortunately is no longer in my life but that’s a regret for another story.
This time it’s crap. And it’s private insured crap. I feel I can’t move on to plan in case I need another surgery, or worse, chemo.
Always on my mind
I’m scared, I don’t want to see anyone really (sorry), because I can’t be upbeat and I don’t want to talk about it.
I want to forget.
I want to watch Greys Anatomy on catch up (because that’s so cheery), put loads of things in my eBay basket and then delete them all, play with my cats, sleep, sleep and more sleep.
But I can’t talk about anything else because this is all encompassing, overwhelming my every waking moment.Â
Tomorrow I’ll deal with the stitch and the scar. And move another day closer to the lottery.
What will I win this time?
And we are back to Wine + Gibbs. ….
