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Post Surgery

Today has not been a good day for Shelbie.  As she said earlier, "This has been the most traumatic 36 hours of my life."

Last night, the area around her incision started getting really swollen and red/purple.  It had definitely doubled in size from a couple hours right after surgery.  She was frantic about it.  I couldn't tell if it was hot to the touch or not.  Nothing I tried would calm her down.  I finally convinced her to take something for anxiety and try to sleep.

By morning, it was the size of an orange so I called the nurse to see what we should do.  She had me send her a picture which I did.  After she consulted with two other nurses, and two Residents, they had no clue what was happening.  "Honestly, we haven't seen anything like this before."  She paged the surgeon and the consensus is there was a significant amount of damage to the surrounding tissue and it's likely deep bruising more than infection but if it continued to get worse we would need to take her to the ER.

Tonight, it is the size of a grapefruit.  You can see it bulging through her pants and she feels like she is feverish yet the thermometer reads normal.  But...my kids are notorious for not registering an increased temp even when really sick.  We may end up at the hospital after all except we are home now so it's going to be a giant headache to take care of it now.

Shelbie has been in major pain and discomfort.  We stopped every hour on the way home so she could get out and walk so we don't have to deal with blood clots.  At one stop, she wouldn't get out of the car. "I know you are in pain but I promise you, a blood clot is not what you want right now so get out!"  Except...I said it with a smile on my face...which means it didn't have angry overtones to it. I think I may have actually been half laughing.  Still, she shot me a glare and under her breath said, "You are SATAN!"  But she got out of the car!  And someday, we will look back at that and laugh! I'm sure of it.

Shelbie is funny by nature and quick witted not to mention she can almost out play me with her sarcasm.  Even when she is feeling  her worst, she is making jokes, except the minute we all start laughing, she falls apart into uncontrollable crying and then we feel stupid and it's just sort of crazy.  So, that's how the day goes, laughing one minute, crying the next.  Everything is way out of scale and proportion.  Nothing makes sense.

Last night, she wanted to get out of the hotel and go somewhere for dinner so we took her in our new wheelchair I purchased a few weeks ago.  The whole meal was spent in conversation about cancer, dying, funerals...she just has to get these scary things out of her head so she can talk it out.  I know that having those thoughts outside of your head are way better than being alone with them inside of your head but it wasn't helping the boys any who are already freaked out about seeing this happen to their sister, knowing full well this could soon be their reality as well.  So, everyone was on edge and upset.  I keep it all inside and just focus on being one of the King's men who keeps everyone from falling to pieces.  It's hard.  It was frustrating.  I have never been so glad when everyone was finally sound asleep and unwound from the day.

We might actually be in Wonderland...in fact, I've been looking for Alice as we tumble down this rabbit hole we stumbled upon.

I can't even think straight anymore.  I'm tired.  People are asking about results and honestly, I hope we don't find out until next Wednesday when we meet with Dr. Shami.  I just want one more week to process what we have been through this week.  One more week to pretend this really can't be happening.  One more week to get my life in order, the laundry done, my friggin taxes done...find a better job I can do remotely...One more week to remain aloof and numb. One more week to laugh and cry simultaneously because that is more fun than running through a room scattered with Legos.

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