A Monday kind of love

Some weekends are best forgotten. Everyone sick, juicer broke, nuff said. It's Monday and I'm going to enjoy the solitude, despite being exhausted from last night.

I'm getting my drains removed today - not by my own surgeon, but I couldn't wait another friggin' day. There's a chance the pathology report might be ready, too. Which is good but yikes. I'm thinking there are two possibilities there. "Negative margins" being the best outcome and "we need to go back in to remove more" being the worst. I'm just focusing on an end to sponge baths and washing my hair in the sink and the rebirth of long hot showers.

The pain is much more manageable now. I'm taking extra-strength Tylenol once or twice a day and am forcing myself to get out and about as much as possible. Where I had my sentinel node removed I'm getting these electric shock feelings, which I think is normal. And I'm willing any stray cancer cells to stay the fuck away from my my tiny new boobies.

I'm still getting used to looking down and seeing the Kate Hudsons peering back at me. I feel like a 12-year old girl and the feeling only multiplies with the baggy sweaters I'm wearing to house the drains and the baggy jeans that used to fit on my former frame. As soon as I can pull up my pants without wincing, I'll be getting my arse to the pantaloon store to stock up.

But today I'll enjoy my beautiful green juice pumped out by my spanking new (and bigger!) Breville and couch out for a bit before attempting the drive to the doc's this afternoon.