My tire is deflating

Dragged myself to campus today - care of Bobby - an old friend from the Jurassic age of 80s pool parties. He chauffeured me kindly. Thank you. He is SUCH a gentleman. The old fashioned yet not chauvenist kind. Nice person.

Taught, walked, that is all. I was half dead. My poor students suffered my disjointed thought. After class one, I very slowly stacked my books up, tied a knot in my purse strap so I could hook it over my elbow and shuffled out. I shuffled along like a 103 year rather dull old man in a flapping robe. Oh! I think I hear a friendly voice! I looked over to see my dear friend Leila (fellow teacher and bringer of last night's lasagna) and her intern, a female body builder toting her usual one gallon milk container of water, coming on to my left behind me. "Hey - they debunked that stupid 8 glasses of water myth - you crazy nut!" and "Oh yes I'm doing FINE - no need to worry about me!" I planned to cheerfully call to out to them, to show how well I was managing having a straw jammed into my chest on one side and a large slice cut out of the other. I cleared my throat, shifted my load so I could look over better, and...they were 30 feet ahead of me. I caught up later.

I'm glad the day at work is over - it about killed me. I fell into bed - no lunch, no work clothes off, no how do you do - when I got home and am here still.

Me trying to get ready to teach today - shaky camera hand.

In my coma like rest I missed a call from my surgeon, who left a voice mail something like this:

Sent surgery tissue to lab, got path report today and she was sorry but there's still quite a lot of bit of ductal carcinoma in situ in the breast. A lot. One margin were not clear again at all. The bad news: she will have to do another surgery. The good news: in situ carcinoma is not too bad, it hadn't moved out of the breast, she says I'm in no danger.  I think she wants me to do chemo, then another surgery, then radiation. I called back and left a message with her nurse with the following questions:

1. Since the DCIS is not detectable by scan or the eye, what is the probability that I also have it in the other breast?

2. Does this indicate that I possibly need a mastectomy in the left breast, or both?

3. Oh fuck I forgot the third question.

I was so asleepish when I listened and left my message. 

Violet and I on the couch last night.

I want to state for the record that I love my surgeon. Don't ask me to defend her - this is complicated stuff. 

What I want right now:

Toast

Comfy clothes - the highlight of my day was getting my two new sweatshirts from Old Navy in the mail. One says Hello There

To understand my stupidly convoluted set of non dangerous in situ stuff that's no big deal yet we can't seem to remove it AND to understand how my "slow growing" invasive cancer is supposed to respond to chemo that "only kills rapidly dividing cells" - WTF!

To hang out with my dear sweet husband 

To be with my girls

To wake up - I feel under water 

For this fucking portacath to not hurt like a motherfucker - a brochure says "you can take a few Tylenol if you experience discomfort!" Tylenol is a made up product made by sweeping the Cheerios factory floor, bleaching all the swept up crap, then pressing it into little pill shapes. It does not do nuthin and you can quote this English teacher.

To thank you for reading this and being there.

What I don't want right now:

To talk on the phone

To do much

To answer questions - no I don't know when chemo will start, I don't know why I have more damn cancer cells in my body, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel after this surgery. Or when the next will be or when radiation starts. And I don't know how this blog works or how comments work or anything - I'm just a typist who ripped off this free blogger service. If yiu have questions ask a child - I'm not being flippant, I swear the kids are superior to us with technology.

To wear pink or do a rah rah of any kind.