The Autumn of Toomie's Content

It's two days after my stent replacement, and everything is getting much better. I'm still a little itchy, but I can tell that there are less axe-wielding Keebler-esque itch-elves hewing my flesh into itchy chunks for me to scratch, which is nice. I really have to say that the teams at Stanford are really quite considerate. When talking to the doctor who was going to perform the procedure I mentioned my experience the first time about feeling like an inner tube, and he said they'd make an effort to deflate my gizzards the best they could. I also asked him about foods to eat (or to avoid) because of the stent, and was informed that I could eat anything I pleased, which was awesome news since I've been craving salads and vegetables, and not the smoothie-fied versions, mmm-kay.

True to his word I woke up feeling a little discombobulated from the anesthesia, and totally normal from an internal psi perspective! No one could mistake me for a summer inflatable toy and try to take me out on the lake for an afternoon float, and my darling sister (who drove me down and kept me company) and I proceeded to make our exit.

I did get sick from the anesthesia, but it was a minor inconvenience. Thankfully my sister drives an Element, and she basically told me to throw up as much as I wanted because they could just hose it out like an animal's zoo pen when she got home. I opted to spare her a major mess, and used a Lululemon Poser bag to catch my boot. I can speak with empirical assuredness that those bags (yoga hipster though they may be) are nowhere near liquid proof.

When I got home I was exhausted, and caught some serious Zs. The next day I was out on walk with my youngest son, and the doctor's office called to check in on my progress. I told them that symptoms were fading as expected, and I was feeling no ill-effects from the procedure. After my son picked out a bottle cap from the dirt, and proudly displayed it.

After looking at the photo I reflected on the fact that we are changing seasons, and that I spent the whole summer treating Toomie to poison, and here we were coming into fall, and further contemplated that this was the season where the year's growth is shed and renewed, and likened this tumor to floral detritus that ends up under a log and becomes food for the worms. I'm thrilled that this is all wrapping up in 2012. I want to make this year a package deal for cancer: diagnose, treat, cut open, recover, and burgeon in newfound health.