Two steps forward, one step back

I'm trying NOT to look at this as a set back. Really. But it's hard to keep my attitude on straight after all that has happened this terrible year.

Learned yesterday that we need to return to the OR to remove necrotic tissue from one of my incisions. That's another trip to the big hospital up the road, another anesthesia, another recovery. Not to mention another emotional hurdle to jump, which is getting harder and harder as we progress. Or don't progress - which is the crux of the problem.

I like things to move along. I'm a planner. I do better when I know what to expect. However, things aren't moving along according to my plan and it's starting to PISS ME OFF. 

This next surgery was scheduled for today. Got a call early this morning that the surgeon was sick and we'd have to reschedule. I guess even doctors get sick. What a let down. What a bummer. Not that I was looking forward to it, but I was emotionally geared up. I was ready for the next heap of crap cancer would dump on me. I'd washed all the laundry, mopped the floors, notified my work that I would not be returning to work this week. My ducks were in a row.

NOW WHAT?  Now they want to reschedule TWO weeks from now. That's totally not going to work for me. It's not in my plan. I'd already planned to return to work that week and travel to the west coast for a business meeting. I can't do either of those things if we schedule surgery for two weeks from now.

And won't that rotting tissue be really rotten two weeks from now? I liken it to watching a really ripe tomato rot away. Ewww.

The bigger problem is that it delays the reconstruction process. We can't begin to fill the expanders until the incisions are healed. And we can't swap the expanders for the implants until the are filled multiple times with saline making my breasts the size I want them. Another delay. I hate delays. 

I hate my expanders, too. They are hard as a brick. They are uncomfortable 24 hours a day. I can't lay down flat cause they press against my chest making me feel like I can't breathe. It hurts to sit too long. The muscle holding them in place spasms when I move a certain way. 

I keep telling myself that it's all going to be worth it when I get to come home with my new soft and nearly real-as-life boobs. 

Yes indeed. Someday this will all be worth it. I'll have fresh perky boobs and I'll be healthy. But for the moment, it feels like cancer will just never stop dumping on me. 

But on the other hand, I suppose it's better than the alternative. I could be dead. Ding dong dead. Instead, I'm bitchin' about how hard my boobs are and how I hate it when things don't go my way.

Maybe it's all not so bad...