Catia Bitching Cancer

I heard people with disabilities comment on how “temporarily abled people” (among whom I used to count myself) often avoid looking at them. The disabled seem to not like that a bit. As a formerly abled I wondered how to look at the disabled without appearing to be staring or condescending; or how to not look at them without appearing to denying their presence and dignity. I am finally getting a taste of what the disabled feel like. For the first few days I was only in touch with my friends who were simply great: I could even show some of them the scar and they seemed not too shocked. But a few days ago, someone I know saw me for the first time after surgery and boy was it evident she was trying to avoid looking at my chest! She was trying to be upbeat about it, to cheer me up, to tell me that I had nothing to worry about, but it was clear as crystal that the absence of breast bothered her. I guess for her it meant I was now no longer ‘like anybody else’, a ‘normal’ person. I was a sick person, someone to be pitied. Of course, I don’t feel that way about myself at all. Inside I am the same person as before, and the absence of a breast does not change who I am. But people do see me differently, as somehow less than… So the other day I decided to put on a new t-shirt that Cynthia, Kristi, and Kristin gave me at the goodbye-boob party. It says ‘Please ignore my gorgeous tits’ right across the chest. Just because I have cancer it doesn’t mean I lost my sense of humor, and every time I put that t-shirt people will know!
I had gone to the doctor’s office that day to have a nurse help me milk my drainage tube. For the past 10 days, I have been going around with a plastic tube inserted under my skin making a curve from the sternum, up my chest, then coming out on my left side, below my armpit, and ending in a little plastic bottle. Every now and then, the tube gets clogged with a blood clot, and I have to unclog it. The technique for unclogging the tube is called ‘milking’ because, as my father observed, it is very similar to milking a cow. You use a disinfectant wipe to slide your fingers along the tube and help the drainage liquid (a mixture of blood and some other clear body fluid) go through the tube and into the bottle. I have had to monitor the flow and empty the bottle two to three times a day for the past ten days. Needless to say, I was ecstatic today to see Dr. McDorky who finally took the tube out! It was not without pain, but it lasted a short time. More painful was the insertion of a big long needle attached to a huge syringe, to drain some fluid that had formed (not unusual) on my side, where the implant valve is located. But he told me I am healing well, everything is normal. I still can’t use my arm and I have to get plenty of rest, no exercise for another week, but I am doing fine! Tomorrow I’ll see the surgeon and get the histological report.

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