Part Two.....Drain is Gone!!

Meg put it best: Ding Dong the Drain is Gone, The Wicked Drain...faa laa laa....

Regrettably, the Drain is considered biohazardous waste and I was not allowed to take it with me. Ahhhh, the best laid plans.

Seeing as I am such a secretive and mysterious type, I cannot resist sharing some details. Big surprise.

The lovely Meredith accompanied me to the drain removing party. She watched the festivities from the front row. The doctor quizzed me, ensuring that I was at the acceptable drainage level. I am pleased to say that I didn't have to fudge the numbers at all. And, believe me, over the last week I've been tempted!

First, she had to "milk the drain." This consists of holding onto it with both hands and pulling on it like I was Bessie. Or, back in college playing intramural tug-o-war. Black dots swam before my eyes and the room became very hot. She reclined me back on the table. I'm not sure if that is standard procedure or if she worried I was going to faint. Either way, it helped.

Milking took a while. One tug was so intense that my left leg kicked up involuntarily, like a marionette. Good to know that the right side is connected to the left leg. I hope never to discover if the opposite is true. Meredith later told me that she almost flew to my aid. I guess the milking looked as bad as it felt.

After I was sufficiently "milked," she removed the drain. She then showed me about 4inches of tubing that had been inside me, above the sutures. Did I mention that this thing was stitched in to me? FOUR inches of tube! I almost tossed my cookies at that. It was gross enough seeing the drain that hung around for 12 days, much less the inside view.

Meredith than took the scenic route down Torrey Pines to the beach. I love that stretch of road: dramatic cliffs, crashing waves, fertile marshland. She then walked me. Wait! No! She did not walk me! I walked myself!!! With her. While wearing a tank top. No jacket required. Amazing! Magical!

It has been 7 hours. I think it will take a few days for me to feel free.

Teaching in the morning. The first step to feeling free.

Drain, drain go away.

Drain, drain, go away, never come back any day.

Poetry has never been my strong suit. Neither has patience. Seriously, this drain is by far the worst part of this experience thus far. Even worse than the radioactive isotope-thingy they shot into my boob pre-surgery. The injections are just painful but, this drain is disgusting. Worse then looking at the bandage and imagining my scar. Worse even then having to wear the blue mask in the hospital. Have I made my point?

Seriously. I had a moment upstairs when we were going for Sports Bra #4 when little black dots floated before my eyes and I almost collapsed. I made the mistake of actually looking at where the drain was emerging out of my underarm. Not a good idea.

The drain wasn't draining properly and I've been soaking through all these clothes, towels, and sheets. I called the hospital today and the lady on call asked me if I'd been "stripping the drain"....um, no. No idea what that means. Long story short: you are supposed to pull on the drain 3 or 4 times without pulling it out of the skin completely. Sure, that is intuitive. How would I know that??

Then, I'm supposed to stay compressed in the hideous sports bra to help the healing process, the internal stitches, etc. But, the stupid thing was so tight that I think it blocked the drainage tube. Another lululemon sports bra is toast. For my next outfit change because I couldn't breathe in the hideous zippered contraption, I decided to step into a slightly oversized lululemon bra and pull it up. Success! My achievement for the day.

I had a nightmare. Drugs will do that to you. I dreamt that they called me from lululemon and told me that they were putting my ambassadorship on hold because of all the upcoming treatment. I was devastated. After all I went through in the mystic tan booth.....

I feel like my life is on hold. I can't teach until this drain is removed. I feel like I can't leave the house until I go have the drain removed. Once the drain is gone, who knows what the future holds?

How can I not go insane? Taking it day by day is impossible when I look down at this drain, impossible as I cannot indulge in my favorite escape of reading because I have the attention span of a gnat, impossible because I don't know what they are going to tell me on Tuesday regarding recommended treatment protocols.

I'm not ready to "begin the fight" right now. I don't feel like activating my inner warrior to get fired up for battle. I'm exhausted. I've been fighting my entire life and I really want to just "be" for the second half.

And, by just "being", I mean publishing a novel, publishing more health and wellness articles and a book, succeeding on ExerciseTV, helping others through my teaching, living on a LARGE scale. I've finally found my calling after my forays through law, sales, charity work....damn it....I don't have time to deal with this disease. I have too much to do. I've finally found my man. I'm just getting started and this whole cancer bullshit is very inconvenient.

When I first got the diagnosis, I was very pragmatic: I will get the lump removed, get my radiation, which will be annoying and time-consuming, but, I will be done in time to go to Australia with Todd in May. Boom, boom, boom. Get it done. This evil drain is disturbing my plans.

A wise woman suggested to me that I sit back for the ride and allow others to fight for me. It sounds good. I am humbled by all the offers of help from those close to me and those who really aren't that close to me too. I am not sure how to sit back and allow others to do for me. Not in this sense anyway.