Hi LJ!
Well -
There are good things and bad things about spending 5 weeks living back home with your parents.
On one hand I cannot articulate properly how happy I was to be recovering from surgery and processing all the next steps in a nice happy place with a big garden full of quail and all my meals catered to. It was wonderful just having people *around* when things were going sideways with my one wound.
On the other hand, living without the dog was terrible and sometimes you just need your own damn space!
But my house was being literally gutted and rebuilt under the guiding hand of my sister. It was not an option to be here (yes here for I AM HOME AT LAST) and it wasn't an option not to get the work done. The house was old and unfit for recovering in primarily due to issues I mismanaged. Never, ever, underestimate how depression can trick your brain into saying some things are Ok when they ARE NOT. The good news is my depression is now well managed, but needless to say I still needed major help healing the house.
So I now sit here with new floors (entire house), new windows, new paint all downstairs, new carpet up the back steps, a new bathroom and a new kitchen. Plus all of the old insulation is out. New furniture, new this, new that....new extra $50K on my mortgage (which was going to be paid off this year, oh the irony!) but all of it worth it because now I have a really beautiful warm clean safe place to get through chemotherapy in. And this wasn't an indulgence because I wanted debt - this is what had to happen and I am just lucky it happened well.
My sister has been astonishing in all of this: she has taken care of *everything* because my health is her primary issue. My biggest issues have been to choose new paint colors and slight anxiety over the granite chose for my new countertops. She found the team to get all this work done quickly because it had to be done before chemo started. That starts this week - the team is finishing up things today and will be 100% done by Tuesday.
I have been very frustrated with the wound issue: I need to be cleared for chemo so I can get back to work (only allowed back after first round of chemo is done) and cant get cleared for chemo until docs sign off on wound! The lump was pretty large: in taking it out and making sure it had 100% margins it basically created a larger hole in me than my body could deal with. The plastic surgeon had originally tried to 'preserve the look' of the breast, but that didn't fly and the wound just kept filling with blood and breaking. Ugh. Finally she took me back to the OR, took out more skin and closed up the hole - which will now leave a noticeable dent on the side of the boob. I pointed out I DO NOT CARE and do not want/need reconstructive surgery. After all these issues the idea of more surgery makes me want to puke, frankly. As it is I am wearing a special wound vac now to try and get this last stubborn bit closed off at last. Heal, damn it!!
I am chomping at the bit to get back to work. This was supposed to be my year of PROMOTION not huge absences for illness. Talk had started, damn it! I am particularly mad at this because I *know* I should be further up the damn food chain. Ugh, breathe.... Plus of course I like work, which helps!
There are good things and bad things about spending 5 weeks living back home with your parents.
On one hand I cannot articulate properly how happy I was to be recovering from surgery and processing all the next steps in a nice happy place with a big garden full of quail and all my meals catered to. It was wonderful just having people *around* when things were going sideways with my one wound.
On the other hand, living without the dog was terrible and sometimes you just need your own damn space!
But my house was being literally gutted and rebuilt under the guiding hand of my sister. It was not an option to be here (yes here for I AM HOME AT LAST) and it wasn't an option not to get the work done. The house was old and unfit for recovering in primarily due to issues I mismanaged. Never, ever, underestimate how depression can trick your brain into saying some things are Ok when they ARE NOT. The good news is my depression is now well managed, but needless to say I still needed major help healing the house.
So I now sit here with new floors (entire house), new windows, new paint all downstairs, new carpet up the back steps, a new bathroom and a new kitchen. Plus all of the old insulation is out. New furniture, new this, new that....new extra $50K on my mortgage (which was going to be paid off this year, oh the irony!) but all of it worth it because now I have a really beautiful warm clean safe place to get through chemotherapy in. And this wasn't an indulgence because I wanted debt - this is what had to happen and I am just lucky it happened well.
My sister has been astonishing in all of this: she has taken care of *everything* because my health is her primary issue. My biggest issues have been to choose new paint colors and slight anxiety over the granite chose for my new countertops. She found the team to get all this work done quickly because it had to be done before chemo started. That starts this week - the team is finishing up things today and will be 100% done by Tuesday.
I have been very frustrated with the wound issue: I need to be cleared for chemo so I can get back to work (only allowed back after first round of chemo is done) and cant get cleared for chemo until docs sign off on wound! The lump was pretty large: in taking it out and making sure it had 100% margins it basically created a larger hole in me than my body could deal with. The plastic surgeon had originally tried to 'preserve the look' of the breast, but that didn't fly and the wound just kept filling with blood and breaking. Ugh. Finally she took me back to the OR, took out more skin and closed up the hole - which will now leave a noticeable dent on the side of the boob. I pointed out I DO NOT CARE and do not want/need reconstructive surgery. After all these issues the idea of more surgery makes me want to puke, frankly. As it is I am wearing a special wound vac now to try and get this last stubborn bit closed off at last. Heal, damn it!!
I am chomping at the bit to get back to work. This was supposed to be my year of PROMOTION not huge absences for illness. Talk had started, damn it! I am particularly mad at this because I *know* I should be further up the damn food chain. Ugh, breathe.... Plus of course I like work, which helps!