Recovery from this surgery (and any surgery I would venture to guess) is just as much mental as it is physical. My emotions are riding on a huge rollercoaster. Sometimes laughing and feeling myself to suddenly plunging into tears of frustration for not being able to do something or simply from being tired of hurting.

On Wednesday, when I only got one of my two drains pulled I was not a happy camper. I was extra grumpy because the drain that stayed is the one causing me trouble – constant pain and burning. But the doctor looked close and said it was not infected. He was adamant on keeping it because its output was too high to remove. He reminded me if he pulled it too soon fluid could collect in my body and that would not be fun to get out.

I went to bed Wednesday hurting, but assumed that was from the doctor filling my expanders. They said with the 70cc they filled I would probably experience muscle pain. But I woke up at 2am with more than just muscle pain. I was in excruciating pain. I am not big on taking strong drugs, but in this case I fumbled across the house looking for the muscle relaxer my doctor prescribed.

I dozed off and woke up again in horrible pain. Jordan took one look at me and brought me back to the condo. He knew my pain was over his pay grade. It was comical how fast he dropped me off to my mom.

I spent the next 24-hours sleeping and awoke this morning with a very red and very angry left breast. If there’s one thing I’ve learned though out Marjories medical journeys it is to trust my gut. I immediately texted my doctor’s assistant and she got me in ASAP.

As I got ready for the doctor’s office, I told mom we should pack a bag. Every time Marjorie has ended up in the hospital I never have a bag because I never thought we would end up in the hospital. I told my Mom we are using the umbrella theory…if you bring an umbrella it doesn’t rain. So I packed a bag and off we went.

The kind PA came in the exam room, took one look at my angry, red boob and said we might be looking at IV antibiotics in the hospital. She explained Dr DeFazio tends to be more on the conservative side when attacking infections.

Damn. So much for my Umbrella Theory.

She went out to chat with Dr DeFazio (who was in surgery, but had been sent pictures of Angry Boob). I looked at my mom and sighed. I just wanted to go home. Much to all of our surprise, Dr DeFazio gave me the okay to go home with two powerful antibiotics and strict orders to go straight to the ER if I don’t feel better in 24-36 hours, spike a 101 fever or the red grows outside the lines (the PA drew a border around the redness).

My physical pain and exhaustion is currently numbing out my sadness. Deep down, I just want to feel better – and I know it will happen in time. I am praying these antibiotics work ASAP and I can remain home (well in the condo). My hospital bag theory worked, for now. Praying it continues too.

I am ready to get the healing back on track. But will continue to take things one day at a time, thankful for my caring tribe that keeps me sane and laughing through everything – angry boob and all.

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