Adventures of Masked Yogi at Pre-op

I thought that the gowns and the never-ending boob groping by every employee of Scripps were humiliating enough. But, oh no, I was mistaken.

As you can see by my latest photo, I am not the shallow, vain, boob-obsessed narcissist I may seem from my other photo postings. I wanted to photoshop my head onto a bikini body shot but, alas, I lack the skill for that.

When my friend Joanna and I walked over to the actual hospital for the first of three appointments that comprised my pre-op appointments, we had to check in with the guardian at the gate. We were issued Visitor Badges and since I have the sniffles, I was issued the lovely blue mask I am wearing in my photo. Seriously. I had to wear it through the hospital to make sure I didn't infect anyone. Very insulting.

We couldn't stop laughing and I was dying to rip it off but, there are cameras everywhere. What if I was kicked out and the surgery delayed? Too risky. So, after taking this photo opportunity, I stuffed it into my purse. I had a good story if we were stopped: the nurse had me remove it to talk and I forgot it in her office.....we exited the hospital through a different door, just to ensure that I didn't have to lie!

Question: why aren't there any air-holes in the mask? I couldn't breathe???!!!

The gist of today's appointment was to remind me that surgery is Friday, February 5th at 12pm. Apparently, first I will be injected with a painful, radioactive isotope so that when they take the sentinel lymph node, they can see if the cancer has spread. If the cancer has indeed spread, they will take out 10-15 lymph nodes and I will have to wear a drain under my arm for 7-10 days. This is beyond disturbing. And, makes me gag. Really? How am I to teach hot yoga with a drain in my arm? Sleep? I know they have to tell me all the possibilities but, yuck.

I should be out of the hospital at 6pm, just in time for the weekend. So, I've had my fifth recommendation to take Xanax. And, I am going to follow this advice the day of surgery. Hell, I'm wondering if I should start now?

My friend Joanna took notes as the NP told me all of this. Thank goodness because I have about a 75% retention rate. Kind of like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons. All I seem to recall is "REEEEALLLLYYY PAINFUL INJECTION INTO YOUR RIGHT BREAST, TAKE XANAX!!! and you “CANNOT EAT OR DRINK 8 HOURS PRIOR TO NOON” on Friday. How am I not going to eat? I am not pretty to be around without my breakfast and every three hour feedings. I can only imagine Friday noon: starving, spaced out on Xanax and waiting for surgery.

If anyone knows the short route to Sainthood, please sign Todd up for it, as he'll be the one dealing with the hungry monster pre-surgery.

On a positive note, no more appointments until the actual surgery next week. And, I received the most amazing care package from Colleen Sudduth, a girl I've known since 2nd grade. I cried as I opened it and all the wonderful "moon goddess" goodies, aromatherapy salts, lotions, salves and something called Ass Kisser. Gotta love it.