It seems like forever since I wrote on here. My side has been bugging me a lot, the mastectomy side. It feels squishy and soft, not just regular and fat like the other side. Like there's fluid or something. It could have been partly because not all sensation is back on that side and with some nerves regenerating, I can feel most things, but it's like when you're at the dentist and you've been given novicane. You can feel it ...but you can't. Plus, my bra fits fine on the life side, but on the right side, it bunches up and spills over the side of my bra. Not normal. I finally got tired of it and on the 21st, I called the nurse at the oncologist office and told them what I was feeling. She noted it and called the doctor and they would call me later. They did and told me that the doctor wants me to come in and see him that week. That was on Tuesday. On Thursday, I went in and he examined me. He could feel a difference on my side and concluded that I had lymphedema in my side. In your arm is where you normally get it, and it's not common to get it in your side. Lucky me.
Great news there. He set me up to go see a physical therapist of sorts at Good Samaritian hospital in Portland. He said that they are very good, the best in the area. I need to count up my doctors visits after I add this person to the list. It keeps growing and growing. I was always terrified of getting lymphedema. When I was going through chemo, there was a lady there that had it so bad that her arm was useless. It was so puffed up and awful looking. I don't know how to explain this other than this way. Image a pickle and pretend it's your finger. Then put a giant Idaho potato next to it and see how different this lady's hand looked in size. Her arm was literally about 3 times the normal size. I was so scared I would end up that way. I walked out of that doctor visit and just wanted to cry. I know I've gaine a bit of weight because I've been depressed and eating was such a way to escape things. I'd treat myself to a favorite snack and instead of limiting myself, I would gorge. It's possible that it could have contributed to the lymphedema, I don't know.
Anyways, that was just the start to one of the worst weeks I've ever had. Our car that we've had since the beginning, has practically died on us after going to the mechanics twice in 7 days for two different problems. No job prospects, sucky Scentsy party, anxiety attacks, and just normal life. So I had a giant sobfest in the bathroom. The really hard, really bad crying like you used to have when you were a kid and got hurt. I hid my face in the towel so the girls wouldn't hear me and I turned on the faucet. I was so tired of being pushed to the very edge of hanging on. I just didn't have anything left in me.
I had also hurt my back the evening of the oncologist appointment. It was hurting a bit and then I picked up L to take her to bed and did something wonky to it. I went to bed and literally could not move my fat butt to turn over. To twist my body to turn over was murder. In the morning, I was hunched over and moving at all made me gasp in pain. The poor little girls were so concerned for me. How I got L to school, I'll never know. The girls held onto my hands as I walked in the community center with them, them because they always do it, me because I was afraid I'd fall over if they didn't. I managed to get home, but I couldn't even walk C to school, even though it was within sight of our home. I barely made it to the gate before I felt like I was going to die. It was some of the worst pain I've had in a very long time.
I called my inlaws in tears and they were able to pick up Lindsey for me. I took two Vicodin and planted my butt in my chair and tried not to do anything to hurt it. When my inlaws brought L home, I was walking all funny and it was just a terrible experience. I'm doing okay now, but I'm only back to about 70% on my back. It's very very frustrating.
