The Gauntlet has been Thrown!

Yesterday I met with Dr. Morrissey, my plastic surgeon aka/My Booby Daddy, knowing that he would more than likely be removing one of the drains.  Of course, I read up on the subject, but everything I read made it seem akin to a medieval torture ceremony.  I had bad dreams of Dr. Morrissey doing some ghoulish laugh as he yanked the tube from my already tender underarm.

Additionally, I spoke to three women who’d either had the process done or had patients that had (oh, Nurse Pam, you have some splainin’ to do!).  They all told me to take the strongest pain pill I had a half hour before the procedure.  I went one step further & brought along an ice pack.

Dr. Morrissey came into the room, & I about jumped out of my skin – the time had come.  No matter how cute you ladies think he is, this is what I saw:

Side note:  I have to take a picture of Dr. Quiros.  The picture I have of him isn’t very flattering.  He, too, is a cutie.  And again ladies, no, you may NOT come with me to all my doctor’s appointments to stare.

The doctor noticed that I was apprehensive.  I guess that shaking like a frightened Chihuahua, clinging to an ice pack as if it was a life raft & excessive drooling might have been his first hint.  Other than that, though, I was handling the situation with quiet grace & dignity - until I almost peed my pants when he shut the door.

Doctor Morrissey was very sweet, though, & assured me that everything I’d heard wasn’t true.  He’d done this a million times, & I wouldn’t even need the ice pack.   Of course, he could have been Mary Poppins handing out a spoonful of sugar or Maria Von Trappe singing about some dumb hills being alive & her favourite things – I wouldn’t have believed them either.

He told me to take a deep breath, which I did.  No, bigger, he prompted; again, I did.  When he asked me to do it for the third time, I was getting ready to tell him if I breathed in any deeper, I’d explode.  Then he said, ready?  I wanted to holler, Uh, yeah, brainiac, I’m really, really ready!  “It’s already out”, he said, with a big ol’ grin, as he held the tube up for proof. 

I hadn’t felt a thing; seriously, I felt NOTHING!  I don’t know if it’s that he’s particularly talented in the drain yanking thing, or that it isn’t that bad to start with.  I’ll find out on Friday, when Dr. Quiros takes another one out.  Of course, I’ll let you know.  Personally, I think that I just happen to have the most excellent doctors in the world & you should probably be lined up around the block to see them if you need them.

After the procedure was done & I’d picked my jaw up from the floor, the doctor asked me what it is I call him.  I had no clue what he’d heard, or if it was a trick question.  I guess the slack jawed look I gave him clued him in.  He explained, “When I walked into the operating room, Dr. Quiros looked up at me & said, here’s the booby something or another”.   Of course, I cracked up.  I let him know that in this blog, I’ve been referring to him as my “Booby Daddy”.  But I thought it was really cool that Dr. Quiros ribbed him about it.  It’s also cool that he’s been reading this blog – Hi, Dr. Quiros!

Before I left, Dr. Morrissey gave me new daily workout instructions.  He wants me to stand an arms length away from a wall, facing forward with my arms to my side.  Then, he wants me to “walk” my fingers up the wall.  By the time I see him next week, he wants me to be able to life my arm over my head without bending it at the elbow (you just did it, didn’t you?).

Of course, I’m thinking “no problem”.  And then I got home & gave it the first shot.  He warned me that it would hurt; turns out, he’s a very honest man.  But, I’ll keep working at it as I plan to do whatever the doctors tell me.  I’ll get that darned arm above my head if it kills me.    

I’ll be seeing Dr. Quiros tomorrow at 3:00 pm.  At that time, we should find out the pathology of the lymph nodes that he removed.  That will determine whether I’ll need chemo alone, or in tandem with radiation.  Wish me luck!

And, now for the reason I’ve referred to the gauntlet.  Dr. Quiros, if you’re reading this before I see you tomorrow, I challenge you!  When it’s time to take out drain #2, you have to live up to Dr. Morrissey’s most excellent drain removal skills.  If, for any reason, it hurts me, then I shall taunt you in a most unpleasant fashion.  And just when you think you can take no more of my relentless taunting, I’ll tell Dr. Morrissey; so he can gloat.  You know, the more I think about this, it might not be the best idea to taunt your surgeon. 

So, there you have it, the incredibly glamorous world of the Brunette Lucy.  Can’t wait for this particular part to be over with so I can get back to doing all the dumb stuff I write about (& finally finish my book!).  Sigh.

Next up, I see Dr. Quiros tomorrow.  Hopefully, I’ll have a better picture to post of him (& maybe Charity, his nurse).