The Story About September

After a Labor Day weekend of waiting and worrying last year, this date in 2014 was full of ups-and-downs.

A week and a half after my surgery, my first follow-up was scheduled for September 2nd.  I was hoping to have some drains removed.  I was not supposed to be driving and expected that Steve would take me as planned.  Still not completely understanding the full horror of what was happening, I was so angry that day, because Steve told me that he couldn't go.  I remember sobbing in the shower and feeling sorry for myself.  Of course, I would take all of that back if I could.  It wasn't really even within the scope of imagination that less than 24 hours later I would learn he was dying.

I cried and cried.  I didn't understand what was happening, and in retrospect, I know that Steve didn't either.  How horrible for him to want to help, but not have the strength or stamina.  A million things were going wrong with his body, and he was scared.

I got ready and took Poppy to daycare.  Then I drove to the southside to see my plastic surgeon.  He removed two drains of the four.  I was disappointed even though I knew that it was a long shot to have all of them removed.

Steve and I talked by phone on my way back.  I guess I knew that something was wrong, but I always thought it would be something fixable...something treatable.  I went to Walmart and picked up bottled water and snacks for our Fantasy Football draft at our house that evening.  I love Fantasy Football and always look forward to draft night.  Originally, we planned to have it our house because of my recovery, but it turned out that Steve was having a harder time getting around.

As I was carrying in cases of water and other items, a neighbor pulled over to chat with me.  He gave me a huge hug...which was slightly awkward after my surgery.  I got all of the items in the house and then took Steve to Community East for the CT-Scan.  He was incredibly nervous.  And I wasn't feeling great about it either.  While Steve was taken back for the imaging, I was reading The Hunger Games on the Kindle that my sister let me borrow for my recovery period.

Steve came out pretty quickly.  I asked him how it went and when they would let us know the results.  He said that they would get back to us that day if it was anything serious.  I was SO anxious all afternoon.  And then five o'clock came and went, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Steve's supervisor dropped by the house to say hello and see how I was doing.  Little did she know that Steve was doing far worse than I was by that point.  He hadn't been back to work since my surgery.

She left after a nice visit playing with Poppy, and then our guests arrived for the draft.  Steve stayed in his recliner and rested the whole night while he made his picks.  I still had on the special mastectomy camisole with pockets to hold the drains.  We had a pretty good time and put Poppy to bed.  I thought that all would be well.

And it was...for about eight more hours. 

Poppy helping Aunt Brenda with the draft.  9 2 14