The Monday-est Thursday

Life is full of disappointments. Some big, some small. I’ve had my fair share of them in the past but I could argue that I’ve never had so many consecutive disappointments as I have this year. Being diagnosed with cancer brought on more than I ever could have imagined (many of which are documented in this blog). And today I am adding another one to the list.

My reconstruction surgery has been pushed to December 10. The excuse from my doctor’s office was that he has a “very important” meeting scheduled for that day. But with the original date being so close to Thanksgiving, I’m willing to put money on him just wanting to extend his vacation. I hope I’m wrong, but it’s hard to keep my mind from going there at the moment.

Anyway, this may not seem like such a big deal to you who are reading this but timing means everything in recovery. This will be a bigger surgery than the mastectomy because my doctor will be operating on two parts of my body, so surgery and recovery are pretty intense—6 hours under anesthesia, 3 day hospital stay and 4 drains that will stay in for up to 3 weeks afterwards. So, this new date means that I will not be cleared to travel home for Christmas this year.

The original plan was to drive home with both boys, Warren and Gray (we were planning on being there for a while), and my mom, but now the risk of clotting will be too high for me to sit still all those hours. I will also more than likely still have two drains in my abdomen at that point which means I’ll still be very uncomfortable and visiting friends and family while dealing with those doesn’t seem appealing at the moment (I’m still traumatized from the mastectomy drains). Maybe I will change my mind and my mom and I can turn the drive into a two day thing, stopping along the way, but right now that does not seem likely.

This is a huge disappointment for me at the moment because Christmas is (with the exception of this year and maybe one in the past) the only time I get to go home. Yes, I will still be coming home for Thanksgiving this year as planned, but it just won’t be the same not being there for Christmas.

I am fully aware that I should be grateful my doctor’s office was able to reschedule me so quickly, but I can’t help feeling nothing but anger right now. Angry that my doctor wasn’t able to plan better. Angry for missing out on the holidays with my family. Angry for possibly having to miss out on a trip to D.C. the first week of January. Angry that cancer is STILL taking things away from me. Angry at myself for being angry.

Tomorrow, after I’ve slept on it and come to accept it, will be better. And in a couple of days I will get over it, but today I am sad. And angry. And all of the things that come with disappointment.

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