My cousin sent me a message this morning

Checking in with me as she tends to do. This dear cousin has impeccable timing with an overflowing abundance of love, beautiful prayers, and a sense of humor all dispensed from very far away as she lives in the Netherlands. It always seems to be the case that when she checks in its usually when I am in mid situation that I had not yet shared with the public at large while struggling to find words or desire to tell it. In fact quite a few blog entries were started with a back and forth between us. She not only helps raise my spirits but she unknowingly helps "get the story outta me". For that I could not thank her enough.

My latest blog entry talks of my low white blood cell count. A number of one. What I don't say is that during that week I had a noticeable soreness on my left side, as if I had been lifting weights which I had not because I don't do that and we don't have that kind of stuff lying around. Off to see my surgeon on Monday morning for a look see. At this point I was having drainage now coupled with persistent hurting. Yea I know (shuffling the dirt around with my feet as I look down) this ain't gonna be good. #sorrynotsorry. My surgeon does a skin swab while telling me unfortunately this can happen during chemo. When the body has infection it looks for ways to remove it.  And that's exactly what my body did through creating a small, very small hole in my skin. 

I was scheduled for another chemo last Thursday. Sure. Just when I'm feeling better. That's the roller coaster you get on for when ya got "the cancer", well the kind that needs chemo anyway. You get the chemo, you get the shots, you take the meds, you tough it out for a rough week or so and then, just then as you cycle up feeling like dancing you get another momma said knock you down chemo cocktail for another cycle all over again. 

This past Wednesday still the same with more pain still knocking at my door. Knock knock. Who's there? Pain. We are coming to hang out. A bad knock knock joke. Aren't they all? I called doctor first thing to see if results were in. Wednesday was critical as it's day before chemo and she knows this. My surgeon calls me in the afternoon to say instead of chemo I will be meeting her up at the hospital for an emergency remove and clean out session. A common yet persistent hard to treat skin bacteria that decided to park itself in my left side is not gone. It was our last resort and I was prepared for it. It was discussed many times during the skin opening/painful new stitches sessions. 

My oncologist called right after to conform this was the best course (they had spoken and consulted before she called me) and that it's important to be all clear for him to continue chemo. He tells me it's very hard to treat with antibiotics on a healthy person never mind someone with compromised immune and lowered defenses. Furthermore that even if I wasn't going to do chemo this would keep cropping up but slower. It's just strong chemo with low white blood cells unmasked it allowing that bacteria to gather strength and forces growing rapidly. Little effers. 

There's this cartoon picture I was laughing over recently and shared on my Instagram account. It was a picture of a king germ (they have those right?) surrounded by his little germ minions with pitchforks in their germ hands gathered around a slice of pizza that had fallen on the ground. With a caption that read: Germs!! attack!! And the king germ says to the minions: NO-we wait five seconds!! Get it? Five second rule? Yes well my five seconds is long gone and the king had staked his place or was trying to.

On Thursday I return to the hospital I have been so many times. A semi reunion in a way with kisses and hugs from my nurses welcoming me back admiring my short hair. It's a bittersweet reunion as I'm not supposed to be there until around summertime. While surgery for me IS drastic, I wasn't resisting this plan. And the fear that used to grip me is lessened by these funny spirited strong women. In any case no one needed to tell me I had a raging infection, I felt something off all week. We tried to conquer it with several rounds of antibiotics each time it opened in efforts to knock the king and minions outta me. Strong ones that made me feel awful and as we see now didn't work. I come to find through school of hard knocks we can bear anything we once thought unbearable. 

It's during my check in at the hospital I meet a nurse who herself is a breast cancer survivor. As we do check in we cheer on her overcoming cancer victory and share our stories a little. We talk about her nails (she just had them done) and my eyeliner (I had none on, it was mascara) like girlfriends chatting except I'm at the hospital in funny looking purple socks, a surgical gown and I'm naked underneath. And it's time for IV. I show her the marks from my two recent hospital visits where we were hopeful and start high in the crook of the arm, each time having to go lower looking for veins. She does her very best to be gentle and cause me no harm as she works to find it. She finds it. Nothing doing. Don't worry she tells me I'm going to call Jeannie over, (one of my favorite nurses who I have written about here-I have many favorites) to see what she can do. Team approach and I like it. When jeannie comes over she tells me sweetly: lovebug, we are going in pediatric style, so bear with me punkin while I get there, okay. After the IV is done she comes to give me another hug and cradles my face with her steady hands as I hold her arm while she does this. We are in this embrace as she kisses me on my cheek and whispers a beautiful prayer in my ear. 

After surgery I'm in recovery with my usual recovery nurse who as I'm waking up catches me up on what's happening in her life as if we never stopped our conversation from over a month ago. It's soothing to hear her voice and listen to her. How's your pain sweetie she asks waiting for me to finish telling her before she continues catching me up. This nurse had the very same procedure I had months ago with no germ minions around so she is on her way to reconstruction followed by a celebration trip with a girlfriend to Europe after. Im thrilled for her and say her so except for it's muted with after surgery haze and fog. I'm sure it's no coincidence that these particular people are in my path or by my side now. It's all meant to be and stories I need to hear. I suspect people who have similar traveled paths to us are all around us, it's just that we don't know they came down from that mountain until we find ourselves on the very same mountain. They are my guides now, along with my team of doctors. 

As I'm in recovery I see an extremely handsome young man in his twenties in scrubs moving about, working away. It's not a bad sight to see really. Usually it's all women nurses or assistants with the occasional surgeon who arrives to drop off his clipboard at the nurses station. The surgeons wear black scrubs so it's easy to tell who they are. This handsome young guy is a dead ringer for the actor Jessie Metcalfe or a younger Mark Consuelos (Kelly Ripas husband). Possibly even better looking. While he works never does it cross my mind for a second what he actually does there.

Soon enough all questions we have are answered as I say goodbye to my recovery nurse and wish her well in her upcoming procedures to move to the next section in recovery. The get dressed get up out of bed receive discharge instructions section. Here you go (she says his name-but we don't use anyone's real name in this public blog except mine and it's my middle name) I have another one for you. Great! Thanks replies the Mark Counsuelos look alike enthusiastically.  

Either I was in a drug haze, woozy or both it did not strike me what that meant until he says to me: ok-I'm gonna help you get dressed now. Me: speechless blinking my eyes. Eventually I gain strength and stammer out: ok. He searches my bag for the first article of clothing. Yes, you got it. Jessie Metcalfe look alike will help me put my panties on. He pulls out my colorful sports bra first and says is this it? Noooo it's not that big I say almost laughing but only to myself, you know in my mind. Eventually he fishes out my undies as I ask him if he is any good at putting them on. Don't worry I'll help he says. It went right over his head. Fine by me. Let's get awkward moment over with. There it continues with each article of clothing except for my clasp in front-sports bra as I am wrapped around my chest over and over with an ace bandage. There is a God and He is merciful.

Another nurse calls Hercules and my parents to come meet me to bring the car around. As she gives after surgery instructions she mentions pain pills and stool softeners (this always happens) but in the direction of Hercules. I say nnuuurrseee we don't talk about poop with hercules. That doeessntt haaapeeen. She laughs and catches on real quick while finishing her instructions. Soon I'm free to go home and rest in my bed. 

When nurse muneca calls me the next day to check in on me I tell her the story of my handsome underwear helper on-er. She cracks up into tears as I assure her the story was real and so is the resemblance. In fact I was waiting for her to arrive during that time so it could quietly point him out for her to have a compete visual later. 

I type this as I am smothered in love and care again from Hercules and my family. They never stop it's just applied with more depth and concentration during these times. My pain -either I'm used to it or it's less- isn't so bad. I have a drain in me again and that's the most uncomfortable part about this new gig. I just can't complain much or at all as these lovely people around me do all they can (I couldn't list all the thing but try to imagine everything) so that I have nothing to do and nothing to worry about besides get up each day, and focus on healing with a smile on my face with conviction in my heart. So that's what I do.