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Friday, March 10, 2017
A Quick Recap: Surgery was on February 15, first thing in the a.m. I was up and walking by late afternoon. A little precocious of me, since I set my incision to oozing and, as a result, was talked to by the RN and ordered back to bed.
Kicked out of hospital on Feb. 18. The next two days at home were reverse-enjoyed.
My brilliant (and fairly adorable) surgeon called the following week, exactly when he said he would, to give me the results of the pathology and the recommended next step from his oncological team. Bottom line: radiation treatment, to start six weeks after surgery, meaning end of March/beginning of April.
In the mean time I'm also scheduled for another Intestinal Geographic Inside Tour (i.e., colonoscopy), sometime this Spring.
More Reverse Enjoyment: an infected incision. These can happen within a month after surgery, and the location of my latest procedure is not often exposed to light, so to speak. Which means: Antibiotics are us.
A lot of financial turmoil at present has led me to a new ambition: to die free from debt. I've been thinking a lot about death at present, which may be a result of the infection, feeling gross overall, etc., but may also be a deep-seated knowledge that I'm living on borrowed time.
The beauty of such End of Days thinking is that, while I've often joked that I want to die mid-sentence, now I know that I want to die amazed. Amazed, is all. [Of course, if I die debt-free, that'll take care of the my two death wishes at once.]
Note: not amazed in a bad sense, like how many of us were after Chump's election in the U.S. Amazed in the buoyant, optimistic, Star-Trek-is-here kind of sense. I've had such feelings at various hospitals, getting high-tech things done to me.