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        It’s official.  I’m about to be a one-tit wonder.  I thought my Halloween costume was going to be a mad scientist or a zombie, or even a hairless horseman, since I’ll be riding the chemo wave around my favorite holiday, but looks like I will have other options.  I can be an Amazon woman.  And if you’re unfamiliar with the Amazons, they were bad-ass warrior women who cut off a breast because it interfered with their ability to use a bow and arrow.  Unfortunately for me, I’m right-handed, so removing my left breast won’t have an effect on my archery skills (if I had any of those to begin with), but I’d like to think that it will increase my mythological status to “bad-ass” (#bars).

        When I went to the doctor last week, the doctor had stitched up the opened incision.  That was Monday.  By Friday, the stitches had failed and the incision was seeping–so much so that I’ve had to change the bandage multiple times a day.  I wish I could suction cup a cup to my boob to catch the fluid.  Like how the kids will suction cup a cup or glass to their mouths.  It would make changing the bandage much easier, since I wouldn’t be pulling sticky Tegaderm off my delicate breast skin 3+ times a day.  But I’d probably have a big ole hickey on my breast.  Beats the red rash that has formed from the Tegaderm, I guess.

        When I go for my appointment on Friday, the nurse is able to squeeze my breast, and the fluid is just bubbling out like a faucet.  By the time I get home, it has already seeped all the way through the bandage.  They use this really cool PolyMem stuff, which is antimicrobial and supposed to suck out all the bad gunk.  I had the nurse send me home with some, but considering I already have to change it by the time I get home, I know I’m going to have to get my hands on more.  Looks like another reference to Amazon, but this time to the website.

        So, Amazon sells PolyMem, but I can’t get it overnighted.  They have some available for Tuesday or Wednesday, but considering I go back to the doctor on Monday, that would be too late.  I search all over Amazon for something that’s like PolyMem, but all I can find are these weird butt bandages.  They’re in the shape of a butt, and the demonstration videos are on a mannequin butt.  I don’t know why you would want or need to put a bandage stopping up your butthole, but they scared me and reminded me of something horrifying like that movie the Human Centipede–like how in the heck did someone come up with that idea and for why?  I would think if you need to stop your butt from leaking, you could use an adult diaper, so I am a little traumatized by the butt bandages.  They’re called sacrum foam dressings, and I am unwilling to fully understand what they are.  I mean, I think they’re for bedsores, but I’m not interested in the what or the why.  I am traumatized enough by the demonstration video.  And the butt shape.

        I finally find some bandages that look like they will work.  They already have sticky on them, so I don’t need to order the separate Tegaderm.  They can be overnighted with a $25 purchase.  Of course they’re inconveniently $19.99.  So I order two packs.  As promised, they arrive at my house at 4 AM Saturday morning.

        I use a small square of PolyMem, along with the foam bandage (not the sacrum butt-shaped kind–these are just round shaped), and head to my basement to tutor online.  I have back-to-back students, so I’m glad to have my bandage situation situated.  After a couple hours, I check my bandage and it’s not seeping through at all.  Which is good news? Maybe? Then I notice how badly my left arm is throbbing.  I realize that my arm is swelling up–especially around my watch wristband.  So….not only is my incision not leaking through my bandage, it’s not draining at all!  I’ve inadvertently bought bandages that don’t allow for drainage AT ALL, and my arm is now taking on all the extra fluid!  $40 down the drain, and I’m making myself worse.  I remove the useless bandage and cobble together what’s left of the PolyMem with the little pieces of TegaDerm that I have remaining.

        Thankfully, Walgreens sells the TegaDerm.  Sunday morning at 8 AM, I run to Walgreens to purchase 3 boxes of TegaDerm.  I don’t know what size I need, so I get one box of the big ones and two boxes of the small ones.  Another $40. I’m able to make the remaining PolyMem stretch until Monday morning, when I have my doctor’s appointment.  I’m having to keep pantyliners in my bra, since the seepage finds its way through the PolyMem and around the TegaDerm.  Really romantic and sexy, I know.

        My doctor had been out of town the whole week before (hence me seeing his nurse on Friday), so the waiting room is so packed that patients are opting to wait in their cars.  The A/C apparently isn’t working either up here.  There’s one woman who is reading all the questions on her clipboard out loud and adding commentary as she goes, so I sit two chairs over from her.  I don’t want no trouble, and I’m perfectly happy reading my book in the corner of the hot waiting room.  

        The wait is an hour.  I don’t mind because I know they’ll change my bandage and I’ll get some answers.  I realize that as patients filter in and out of the waiting room, I’m checking out all of their boobs.  Even the guys.  There’s one lady sitting across from me that I can’t tell if she’s just a little flat-chested or if she’s had her breasts removed.  I can’t stop speculating.  Is this going to be my life now?  Eying the chest of everyone I meet like some horny frat guy? (And no offense to frat guys–I love all my frat buddies from college.  And none of them came off as horny and offensive.  At least not the ones that I was friends with). 

        I get the new nurse again.  She tells me to go ahead and undress from the top down and she’s going to take pictures of my breast.  “It’s covered though.”  I really don’t like getting the new nurse.  I know everyone was new at some point, but I like the more experienced nurse.  She knows me.  The new nurse decides she will just go get the doctor.  Yep.  Better idea.

        He doesn’t even look under the bandage.  I showed him pictures that I had taken at home in the morning.  He said, “Ooh, the skin looks angry.”  Yes, very very angry.  So angry that it’s trying to make a break for it.  I tell the doctor about the Amazon woman idea.  He has never heard of the Amazons, but he’s so tickled to learn about them that he gives me a high-five.  I’m happy to be a beacon of useless knowledge.  Especially for a doctor.

        He tells me we’ll probably have to remove the implant.  He wants to get me into surgery this week.  I know he normally performs surgeries on Fridays, so I’m thinking Friday.  He says he gets a block of surgery time at the hospital on Wednesday mornings, but we’ll see where they can fit me in.  “We’ll call you about a time.  I’ll have the nurse rebandage you.”  And he’s off like a prom dress.

        I insist that the nurse send me home with more PolyMem.  I’m not spending any more time or money trying to find that crap.  She removes my bandage.  “Ohh, does that hurt?  It looks like it hurts.”  “No.  I can’t really feel it.”  I don’t know why, but something in the back of my mind is now happy that it’s the new nurse.  Traumatize her a little.  I bet she won’t see something like that for a while.  Or ever again.  The incision is wide open with strings of pus stretching across the cavernous hole.  Little black stitches stick out here and there.  It’s friggin disgusting.  And I can’t believe it’s on my body.  I just don’t see any way they’ll be able to save this thing.