I wanted to set up this blog so that I could share my experiences with others in this situation. This is a difficult journey to go on and I found that I needed as much information as possible. I am not a medical person, and I have a need to know as much as possible. Not about the exact science of what was happening, but rather how I was going to be impacted.
As everyone says, this journey is personal and different for everyone. I can only talk about my journey. A strong perspective I have is that everyone has to make their own decisions for whatever is right for them when they are on their own journey. I can only talk about me and hope that others reading this, if you are going on a breast cancer journey, might find some of my journey useful. It in no way should be interpreted as giving anyone advice. It's just what I found, observations I make and rumbling thoughts in my brain.
The one thing I won't get into here is how I got through the emotional journey. I just lost a breast, just over 2 weeks ago, and that has taken a lot of work on my part, with help from my husband, my daughter and the clinic psychologist, to get through that. I seem to be in a pretty good place now. I might go into that later.
For those of you in the U.S., you might be interested in knowing that with our health system here in Canada, all of the medical care, support and tests I had were and are free, with Canada's medical care system. Paid through our tax system, but absolutely free - I haven't had to pay a dime.
DCIS 15 years ago
My first bout with DCIS was 15 years ago. It was fairly straighforward - I had a lumpectomy (and I will refer to lumpectomy and wide excision as being the same thing). It was in my right breast - detected through a routine mammogram.
It required me to go to a clinic to have the location of the DCIS marked on the day of the surgery. They gave me a local anaesthetic and then they put a short wire marker into the breast, using an ultrasound view. This was then covered with a big gauze bandage and I had to be driven to the hospital where the lumpectomy was done.
I didn't have any trouble with either getting the wire marker shoved in my breast or with the lumpectomy itself. By that I mean, really, neither one hurt much. The lumpectomy was done under general anaesthetic and was done as day surgery. I had only a small, probably a 3 inch, incision in my breast, but the breast was generally unchanged. Perhaps a bit smaller, but essentially the same.
So the surgery was fine. What surprised me was the radiation.
Radiation was recommended and I agreed. Sometimes, I wish I hadn't agreed. I wish I had asked more questions. I wish I remembered the stats on what was going on to see if the radiation was really needed. Did the radiation really help me? Of course, I'll never know. It just seems to me that I went along, in a daze, with the radiation option. It did impact me later, I found out, when I had my second instance of DCIS, which I'll describe later. So there you go. And I try not to have too many regrets over this - it won't do me any good because that was what happened. But as a caution to others - do your research and ask questions!!
Radiation itself was so easy. It does not hurt at all and I never had any redness or chapped skin that sometimes happens. Nothing. It seems so benign. My memory is now hazy and it also seems to me that my radiation schedule was spread over a couple of months. Was it a couple of times a week for a number of weeks? Was it once a week for a month or two? I have completely forgotten. It certainly was not 5 days a week, which some women get now as a radiation schedule.
What I wasn't really prepared for was the tiredness. It crept up on me. For the first few sessions, I didn't have any effect at all. It was easy. Went into the clinic, got zapped, no pain at all, and went about my life. And then I started getting tired. And more tired. "Oh, that's normal, some women feel tiredness". Great. I looked forward to the end of my sessions. Mistakenly, I thought that once my sessions stopped, I would start to feel better - as in, less tired. Not so. I then found out that radiation has a cumulative effect in the body. So even after my radiation sessions stopped, I kept getting more tired!
This tiredness lasted 6 months. And I'm not talking simple tiredness. I'm talking being able to only lie on the couch all day and listen to the radio. For WEEKS. No work, no household chores, no ability to even concentrate enough to read, nothing. Even getting dresssed was a chore. And that's me. I guess not everyone feels this way - but I did. And I hadn't expected it.
Also, I must say that generally I am pretty active. I hike, bike, like going to movies and out with friends. Work out at the gym. So it wasn't as though I started out as a couch potato. Actually, I was going to the gym 3 or 4 times a week and had a pretty good workout before I went into surgery and started radiation. Turning into a couch potato was difficult for me. And there wasn't anything I could do about it.
One day, out of the blue, I woke up and the tiredness was gone. This was, and still is, a complete mystery to me. Some folks might say that it was all in my head to begin with - that I was pretending this tiredness to get attention, or something, so that's why it disappeared so quickly. Who knows? I don't think I was making the tiredness up - and I don't think there is any deep psychological reason for my tiredness or the disappearance of my tiredness. It was just gone. And I got on with my life.
DCIS returns
Another routine mammogram detected "abnormalities" in the same breast again in August 2012 - 15 years after the first occurence. My GP phoned me at home with the news. I was concerned and went in for an appointment with him. Evidently, the person who wrote the report felt that there was a need for attention to be paid to it, but nothing looked alarming and suggested we check back in 6 months. Knowing of my previous incident of it, my GP felt we should be more proactive and get it looked into right away.
My GP referred me to a surgeon - the same surgeon that I had seen 15 years ago, Dr. Bruce Rothwell. At this point, I wasn't too concerned, although I was worried. These things are always unnerving. He scheduled a biopsy. Actually, two biopsies - there were things now in both breasts that needed to be looked into.
The biopsies were pretty routine. They administered local anaesthetics and took 5 or 6 samples from each side and I was sent home. At that point, the practitioner doing the biopsies felt that they were nothing of any concern, so I was reassured that my "lumpy" breasts just had something mundane going on.
Therefore, when my GP phoned me at home to say that they had found DCIS again in the right breast, I was first flabbergasted and then hysterical. He was, in his gentle way, suggesting that the solution this time might be a mastectomy. I called my husband at work, he came home soon afterwards, bringing doughnuts that he'd bought at work before I had called. So we lay on the bed, with me wailing and moaning and shovelling in doughnuts. Be aware too that this was unusual - this doughnut eating. Since I have a sweet tooth, we rarely have sweets in the house. He had never brought doughnuts home before. But I think I ate 4 in about an hour. I guess I wanted all the comfort I could get. And food for me is often comfort.
Back we went to the surgeon. He expanded on the diagnosis - not simple DCIS but DCIS with microinvasions in the right breast. In the time between hearing from my GP and seeing the surgeon, I had done a ton of research. I had just disappeared down a rabbit hole doing my research. I had been hoping that we'd be able to do another lumpectomy and radiation although I was distraught at losing another 6 months due to the radiation. I just didn't want to deal with my GP's suggestion of mastectomy. However, I found out that lumpectomy and radiation was no longer an option - because of the previous radiation. The DCIS was in the same breast and current thinking is that you can't get the same spot radiated twice.
By the time I saw the surgeon, I was prepared for him to say that this time around, I needed a mastectomy. I had lots of questions, which he answered, but when he told me about the microinvasions, I was a bit freaked out. And a mastectomy seemed to be the only answer. My husband had come to this meeting, since I tend to miss out on information when I am stressed - his job was as note taker. But there was no option. I asked about reconstruction and he said that if I wanted that, it would be done at a later time. I had read a lot about getting reconstruction at the same time as the mastectomy, but I guess that information was from perhaps the U.S. I don't know. What I found out later was that no one in my city did reconstruction at the same time as a mastectomy. All the surgeons want women to recover from the surgery and really consider reconstruction before they jump into it. I was pretty sure I did not want to go this route, but was not positive. I'll write more about this later.
The nurse was going to schedule everything else and let me know the dates and process later - she was working on this as we were leaving the office.
The left breast needed a lumpectomy this time - they had found a papilloma. I had to look this up - it is defined as a benign "wart". This didn't get any attention from me at all. A lumpectomy. A papilloma. Benign. Non-cancerous. Whatever.
The nurse called and the surgery was scheduled for 4 weeks' time. I won't describe this time. I was very anxious though - I felt like a big shoe had to drop and I wanted just to get it over with. And I did lots more research.
Preparing for the surgery
Well, it started the day before the surgery. Surgery was scheduled for the Thursday. On Wednesday, I had to go for "sentinel node mapping". On surgery day, they were going to do a biopsy of the sentinel node on the right side, to see if the cancer cells had escaped from the duct. Therefore, they had to find out ("map") where that sentinel node was.
This involved me putting a cream on my nipple an hour before the procedure. This was supposed to act as an anaesthetic. Then they put two needles into the area where the nipple meets the breast, one after the other, in order to put in radioactive dye. And this hurt like anything! If the cream was supposed to act as an anaesthetic, it didn't seem to have any effect at all. I almost thought I wouldn't be able to go through with it, it hurt so much. Finally, though, they finished shoving the needles in and the dye was in me.
I had to walk around for 2 hours to let the dye circulate. I no longer hurt. Then I returned to the clinic and was slid under a huge ultrasound/mapping machine - they check beforehand to make sure you are not claustrophobic. Fortunately, I am not. And then I got a "bullseye" marked on my breast with indelible ink by one of the practitioners. It was about 1/2 inch across and indicated where the node was. I was now marked and could go home.
Surgery day - September 20, 2012
Early that day, I had to go to another clinic to go through the same type of marking that I had had 15 years previously. Using an ultrasound machine, but this time with no anaesthetic (different clinics have different protocols), they had to locate the papilloma in the left breast. I wasn't expecting much but this was rather disturbing. The papilloma must have been dense, because when they went to put the locator wire in, they seemed to have problems and had to exert a fair bit of pressure on the wire. It didn't really hurt, but it was uncomfortable and unnerving as they pushed and pushed. Finally the wire was located where they wanted and I could go to the hospital.
The surgery time got pushed back by 3 hours, which was also nerve-wracking. My husband and daughter were both with me and I was so grateful for them both being there. My daughter especially was wonderful - she did the main job of keeping up the conversation, gossiping about people we all know, engaging us in talk about current events, entertaining us with her stories. She made the time fly.
There was a little table beside the bed, where I put a few cards that I had received, a couple of crystals and a picture of a beach. These all made the place as "homey" as I could.
I had been doing some meditation and visualization in the month before the surgery. I had been doing this in a haphazard way for a couple of years but went back to it with more regularity before surgery. Both of these actions calm me down, still my mind and just make things slow down. This is all good. When I visualize, I can see a beach, the sand, the trees, the water - I see, smell, hear, taste and feel it. It's very relaxing. So my husband found a picture he had taken of a beach in Australia, with me in the distance, walking along the water line and got 2 prints made of it.
I brought one of the prints with me when I got wheeled into the waiting room before going into surgery. In that way, I could simply look at the picture and calm myself down. The problem was that only one person could come with me into this waiting room - who would it be - my husband or my daughter? I should have pushed to have both of them. It felt like "Sophie's choice" (as in, the movie). What a horrible decision.
Finally I was wheeled into the surgery room, picture in hand. I was given the instruction to breathe deeply for the anaesthetic, which I was able to do as a result of my meditation and yoga practice. I seem to remember that someone in the surgery room said that I was the first person that day who didn't hyperventilate!! It was 2:15 PM when I was being put under and 3:40 PM when I opened my eyes in the recovery room. They had done the mastectomy, the sentinel node biopsy and the lumpectomy.
In Canada, we stay overnight after a mastectomy, since it involved getting a drain. I was starved coming out of surgery, but since I only got back to the room at about 4:30 or 5:00 PM, there had been no meal requested for me. The first words I said to my husband and daughter was "I want a cheeseburger". Thank goodness my husband and daughter had gone out during my surgery to get snack containers of applesauce, peaches and vanilla puddings. The nurses cautioned me to go slowly and to be careful of testing my digestion with just these simple foods first because of possible nausea. We had been warned of possible nausea problems and had come prepared with our own anti-nausea over the counter medications. But I snarfed a number of containers in no time flat. I was also thirsty and drank water and ginger ale. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I snarfed a few more containers before getting back to sleep.
In the recovery room, I had been given morphine. Back on the ward, I didn't have any pain-killers until the middle of the night. Nurses kept asking about my pain, but honestly, I didn't have much at all. I'm not being a soldier here. I really had next to no pain.
I was able to get up and go to the bathroom on my own right away, although it was a bit awkward since I was hooked up to an intravenous machine. This stayed attached until the next morning.
My husband and daughter stayed til about 8 PM until we all kind of faded. Surgery was over and I had come through fine.
A couple of things I would have liked for staying overnight were earplugs and eye shades. The rooms are noisy - we had a lot of people in the room and nurses are going around of course all night long, checking on people. Then there are still announcements/calls on the intercom. Earplugs. And eye shades - yes. While they dim the lights, they still have to keep some lights on, and I want to sleep in darkness, so I found the lights disturbing. Eye shades would have been good.
The next morning I did get a breakfast, thank goodness, although I seemed to be the last one to get a tray. I was about to leap up and grab one! And again, I just snarfed stuff and cleaned up everything they had ordered for me. I was so hungry and food was no problem - I had no nausea at all.
In the morning, my drain was checked, the intravenous was removed, I got all reviewed, given information for resources and officially discharged around 10 AM.
As everyone says, this journey is personal and different for everyone. I can only talk about my journey. A strong perspective I have is that everyone has to make their own decisions for whatever is right for them when they are on their own journey. I can only talk about me and hope that others reading this, if you are going on a breast cancer journey, might find some of my journey useful. It in no way should be interpreted as giving anyone advice. It's just what I found, observations I make and rumbling thoughts in my brain.
The one thing I won't get into here is how I got through the emotional journey. I just lost a breast, just over 2 weeks ago, and that has taken a lot of work on my part, with help from my husband, my daughter and the clinic psychologist, to get through that. I seem to be in a pretty good place now. I might go into that later.
For those of you in the U.S., you might be interested in knowing that with our health system here in Canada, all of the medical care, support and tests I had were and are free, with Canada's medical care system. Paid through our tax system, but absolutely free - I haven't had to pay a dime.
DCIS 15 years ago
My first bout with DCIS was 15 years ago. It was fairly straighforward - I had a lumpectomy (and I will refer to lumpectomy and wide excision as being the same thing). It was in my right breast - detected through a routine mammogram.
It required me to go to a clinic to have the location of the DCIS marked on the day of the surgery. They gave me a local anaesthetic and then they put a short wire marker into the breast, using an ultrasound view. This was then covered with a big gauze bandage and I had to be driven to the hospital where the lumpectomy was done.
I didn't have any trouble with either getting the wire marker shoved in my breast or with the lumpectomy itself. By that I mean, really, neither one hurt much. The lumpectomy was done under general anaesthetic and was done as day surgery. I had only a small, probably a 3 inch, incision in my breast, but the breast was generally unchanged. Perhaps a bit smaller, but essentially the same.
So the surgery was fine. What surprised me was the radiation.
Radiation was recommended and I agreed. Sometimes, I wish I hadn't agreed. I wish I had asked more questions. I wish I remembered the stats on what was going on to see if the radiation was really needed. Did the radiation really help me? Of course, I'll never know. It just seems to me that I went along, in a daze, with the radiation option. It did impact me later, I found out, when I had my second instance of DCIS, which I'll describe later. So there you go. And I try not to have too many regrets over this - it won't do me any good because that was what happened. But as a caution to others - do your research and ask questions!!
Radiation itself was so easy. It does not hurt at all and I never had any redness or chapped skin that sometimes happens. Nothing. It seems so benign. My memory is now hazy and it also seems to me that my radiation schedule was spread over a couple of months. Was it a couple of times a week for a number of weeks? Was it once a week for a month or two? I have completely forgotten. It certainly was not 5 days a week, which some women get now as a radiation schedule.
What I wasn't really prepared for was the tiredness. It crept up on me. For the first few sessions, I didn't have any effect at all. It was easy. Went into the clinic, got zapped, no pain at all, and went about my life. And then I started getting tired. And more tired. "Oh, that's normal, some women feel tiredness". Great. I looked forward to the end of my sessions. Mistakenly, I thought that once my sessions stopped, I would start to feel better - as in, less tired. Not so. I then found out that radiation has a cumulative effect in the body. So even after my radiation sessions stopped, I kept getting more tired!
This tiredness lasted 6 months. And I'm not talking simple tiredness. I'm talking being able to only lie on the couch all day and listen to the radio. For WEEKS. No work, no household chores, no ability to even concentrate enough to read, nothing. Even getting dresssed was a chore. And that's me. I guess not everyone feels this way - but I did. And I hadn't expected it.
Also, I must say that generally I am pretty active. I hike, bike, like going to movies and out with friends. Work out at the gym. So it wasn't as though I started out as a couch potato. Actually, I was going to the gym 3 or 4 times a week and had a pretty good workout before I went into surgery and started radiation. Turning into a couch potato was difficult for me. And there wasn't anything I could do about it.
One day, out of the blue, I woke up and the tiredness was gone. This was, and still is, a complete mystery to me. Some folks might say that it was all in my head to begin with - that I was pretending this tiredness to get attention, or something, so that's why it disappeared so quickly. Who knows? I don't think I was making the tiredness up - and I don't think there is any deep psychological reason for my tiredness or the disappearance of my tiredness. It was just gone. And I got on with my life.
DCIS returns
Another routine mammogram detected "abnormalities" in the same breast again in August 2012 - 15 years after the first occurence. My GP phoned me at home with the news. I was concerned and went in for an appointment with him. Evidently, the person who wrote the report felt that there was a need for attention to be paid to it, but nothing looked alarming and suggested we check back in 6 months. Knowing of my previous incident of it, my GP felt we should be more proactive and get it looked into right away.
My GP referred me to a surgeon - the same surgeon that I had seen 15 years ago, Dr. Bruce Rothwell. At this point, I wasn't too concerned, although I was worried. These things are always unnerving. He scheduled a biopsy. Actually, two biopsies - there were things now in both breasts that needed to be looked into.
The biopsies were pretty routine. They administered local anaesthetics and took 5 or 6 samples from each side and I was sent home. At that point, the practitioner doing the biopsies felt that they were nothing of any concern, so I was reassured that my "lumpy" breasts just had something mundane going on.
Therefore, when my GP phoned me at home to say that they had found DCIS again in the right breast, I was first flabbergasted and then hysterical. He was, in his gentle way, suggesting that the solution this time might be a mastectomy. I called my husband at work, he came home soon afterwards, bringing doughnuts that he'd bought at work before I had called. So we lay on the bed, with me wailing and moaning and shovelling in doughnuts. Be aware too that this was unusual - this doughnut eating. Since I have a sweet tooth, we rarely have sweets in the house. He had never brought doughnuts home before. But I think I ate 4 in about an hour. I guess I wanted all the comfort I could get. And food for me is often comfort.
Back we went to the surgeon. He expanded on the diagnosis - not simple DCIS but DCIS with microinvasions in the right breast. In the time between hearing from my GP and seeing the surgeon, I had done a ton of research. I had just disappeared down a rabbit hole doing my research. I had been hoping that we'd be able to do another lumpectomy and radiation although I was distraught at losing another 6 months due to the radiation. I just didn't want to deal with my GP's suggestion of mastectomy. However, I found out that lumpectomy and radiation was no longer an option - because of the previous radiation. The DCIS was in the same breast and current thinking is that you can't get the same spot radiated twice.
By the time I saw the surgeon, I was prepared for him to say that this time around, I needed a mastectomy. I had lots of questions, which he answered, but when he told me about the microinvasions, I was a bit freaked out. And a mastectomy seemed to be the only answer. My husband had come to this meeting, since I tend to miss out on information when I am stressed - his job was as note taker. But there was no option. I asked about reconstruction and he said that if I wanted that, it would be done at a later time. I had read a lot about getting reconstruction at the same time as the mastectomy, but I guess that information was from perhaps the U.S. I don't know. What I found out later was that no one in my city did reconstruction at the same time as a mastectomy. All the surgeons want women to recover from the surgery and really consider reconstruction before they jump into it. I was pretty sure I did not want to go this route, but was not positive. I'll write more about this later.
The nurse was going to schedule everything else and let me know the dates and process later - she was working on this as we were leaving the office.
The left breast needed a lumpectomy this time - they had found a papilloma. I had to look this up - it is defined as a benign "wart". This didn't get any attention from me at all. A lumpectomy. A papilloma. Benign. Non-cancerous. Whatever.
The nurse called and the surgery was scheduled for 4 weeks' time. I won't describe this time. I was very anxious though - I felt like a big shoe had to drop and I wanted just to get it over with. And I did lots more research.
Preparing for the surgery
Well, it started the day before the surgery. Surgery was scheduled for the Thursday. On Wednesday, I had to go for "sentinel node mapping". On surgery day, they were going to do a biopsy of the sentinel node on the right side, to see if the cancer cells had escaped from the duct. Therefore, they had to find out ("map") where that sentinel node was.
This involved me putting a cream on my nipple an hour before the procedure. This was supposed to act as an anaesthetic. Then they put two needles into the area where the nipple meets the breast, one after the other, in order to put in radioactive dye. And this hurt like anything! If the cream was supposed to act as an anaesthetic, it didn't seem to have any effect at all. I almost thought I wouldn't be able to go through with it, it hurt so much. Finally, though, they finished shoving the needles in and the dye was in me.
I had to walk around for 2 hours to let the dye circulate. I no longer hurt. Then I returned to the clinic and was slid under a huge ultrasound/mapping machine - they check beforehand to make sure you are not claustrophobic. Fortunately, I am not. And then I got a "bullseye" marked on my breast with indelible ink by one of the practitioners. It was about 1/2 inch across and indicated where the node was. I was now marked and could go home.
Surgery day - September 20, 2012
Early that day, I had to go to another clinic to go through the same type of marking that I had had 15 years previously. Using an ultrasound machine, but this time with no anaesthetic (different clinics have different protocols), they had to locate the papilloma in the left breast. I wasn't expecting much but this was rather disturbing. The papilloma must have been dense, because when they went to put the locator wire in, they seemed to have problems and had to exert a fair bit of pressure on the wire. It didn't really hurt, but it was uncomfortable and unnerving as they pushed and pushed. Finally the wire was located where they wanted and I could go to the hospital.
The surgery time got pushed back by 3 hours, which was also nerve-wracking. My husband and daughter were both with me and I was so grateful for them both being there. My daughter especially was wonderful - she did the main job of keeping up the conversation, gossiping about people we all know, engaging us in talk about current events, entertaining us with her stories. She made the time fly.
There was a little table beside the bed, where I put a few cards that I had received, a couple of crystals and a picture of a beach. These all made the place as "homey" as I could.
I had been doing some meditation and visualization in the month before the surgery. I had been doing this in a haphazard way for a couple of years but went back to it with more regularity before surgery. Both of these actions calm me down, still my mind and just make things slow down. This is all good. When I visualize, I can see a beach, the sand, the trees, the water - I see, smell, hear, taste and feel it. It's very relaxing. So my husband found a picture he had taken of a beach in Australia, with me in the distance, walking along the water line and got 2 prints made of it.
I brought one of the prints with me when I got wheeled into the waiting room before going into surgery. In that way, I could simply look at the picture and calm myself down. The problem was that only one person could come with me into this waiting room - who would it be - my husband or my daughter? I should have pushed to have both of them. It felt like "Sophie's choice" (as in, the movie). What a horrible decision.
Finally I was wheeled into the surgery room, picture in hand. I was given the instruction to breathe deeply for the anaesthetic, which I was able to do as a result of my meditation and yoga practice. I seem to remember that someone in the surgery room said that I was the first person that day who didn't hyperventilate!! It was 2:15 PM when I was being put under and 3:40 PM when I opened my eyes in the recovery room. They had done the mastectomy, the sentinel node biopsy and the lumpectomy.
In Canada, we stay overnight after a mastectomy, since it involved getting a drain. I was starved coming out of surgery, but since I only got back to the room at about 4:30 or 5:00 PM, there had been no meal requested for me. The first words I said to my husband and daughter was "I want a cheeseburger". Thank goodness my husband and daughter had gone out during my surgery to get snack containers of applesauce, peaches and vanilla puddings. The nurses cautioned me to go slowly and to be careful of testing my digestion with just these simple foods first because of possible nausea. We had been warned of possible nausea problems and had come prepared with our own anti-nausea over the counter medications. But I snarfed a number of containers in no time flat. I was also thirsty and drank water and ginger ale. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I snarfed a few more containers before getting back to sleep.
In the recovery room, I had been given morphine. Back on the ward, I didn't have any pain-killers until the middle of the night. Nurses kept asking about my pain, but honestly, I didn't have much at all. I'm not being a soldier here. I really had next to no pain.
I was able to get up and go to the bathroom on my own right away, although it was a bit awkward since I was hooked up to an intravenous machine. This stayed attached until the next morning.
My husband and daughter stayed til about 8 PM until we all kind of faded. Surgery was over and I had come through fine.
A couple of things I would have liked for staying overnight were earplugs and eye shades. The rooms are noisy - we had a lot of people in the room and nurses are going around of course all night long, checking on people. Then there are still announcements/calls on the intercom. Earplugs. And eye shades - yes. While they dim the lights, they still have to keep some lights on, and I want to sleep in darkness, so I found the lights disturbing. Eye shades would have been good.
The next morning I did get a breakfast, thank goodness, although I seemed to be the last one to get a tray. I was about to leap up and grab one! And again, I just snarfed stuff and cleaned up everything they had ordered for me. I was so hungry and food was no problem - I had no nausea at all.
In the morning, my drain was checked, the intravenous was removed, I got all reviewed, given information for resources and officially discharged around 10 AM.
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