A One-Breasted Witchy Woman and a Piano Man Enter the ER…

First, a poetic spell that feels too appropriate not to re-share right now:

 

“Healing a Wish”

I call on you, betrayer of living flesh,
cracker of bones… I name you mine,
I hammer my intent into your core.

My will—never you!—dances
in the red of my blood, throbs
in my center and in my limbs

and in the roots of all that is Me,
I’m blooming you dry, pain of mine,
making dandy fluff out of lion’s teeth,

unbinding hurts, healing a wish.

 

And now, a (not so) wee note about the last few days…

My mastectomy went super well (my Piano Man and I have considered proposing to my surgeon 😊). But the aftercare (nutrition, in particular) was nothing to brag about. You can just imagine how thrilled we were to go home. So thrilled, that we didn’t double check my meds. The doctor who discharged me told us I was going home with the same stuff I had been taking, we were handed a bag, and we split.

Once on the road, I went through the meds and noticed the attending physician had given me the wrong medication. I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. Although, trusted sources suggest that I might have cursed the idiocy of the attending (and my lack of judgment) once or thrice. You see, my Wicked Luvs, I had already voiced concerns about the competency of the physician in question. But I was soooooooooo ready to go home (you can tell by my excessive use of Os). Anyway, I called my surgeon, she instructed me to go to my local ER to get the right medication, and to call her if they gave me trouble—New York (and the VA) are rather careful, when it comes to controlled substances (I support this 100%, since I have seen some terrible things).

When my Piano Man and I entered the emergency room, my teeth were chattering from cold. I was walking a bit crocked, and the spot where my right boob used to be hurt enough to make the rest of me twitch oddly every now and again. To make things even more interesting, Nature’s violent mood swings had sent temperatures from 90s to 50s in about a day. My sexy flesh and bones and I had not adjusted yet.

I walked into the emergency room trembling, twitching, neck cocked in the well-known confused bird position, with at least 5 needle marks from my elbow to my hand, holding a bag of controlled substances, grinning my well-known (slightly psychotic) grin, and asking for controlled substances. You can probably imagine the general reaction… Don’t feel bad if you are laughing, my Piano Man and I laughed too (once we realized how ludicrous the whole thing looked).

Maybe I looked too happy for someone who had said adios to a booby fewer than 24 hours earlier. Maybe my eternal grin didn’t fit the situation. Maybe the shivering and teeth chattering (provoked by the freezing hospital) looked too much like withdrawal. I don’t know what prompted it, but the ER doctor questioned me and my request long enough to annoy my Piano Man, my love doesn’t annoy easily.

I called my surgeon. And after she gave the ER doctor a piece of her mind, he said that he would give me enough medication until Monday. After he finished checking my records and looking at my chest, he blanched a bit, gave me the same amount of medication my surgeon prescribed, and began treating me like a human being. He was even kind after that… and assigned me a nurse who kept repeating how strong I was, and how she couldn’t believe that I was so light on my feet and could be so self-sufficient without taking meds after my body endured such trauma (I had not taken any pain medication in almost 24 hours… and I was mostly fine).

Things are quite good now. My body (all the maiming and tummy issues aside) is a trooper—I didn’t need any morphine while I was in the hospital, I took some of the heavy meds last night (I needed it after a long car ride and doing battle at the ER). I took some Tylenol this morning and will likely take some more before bed. I don’t need much help moving around or getting what I need, but… who am I to rob my Piano Man of the chance of being even more incredible than he usually is, right?

Now, we are keeping our fingers (and toes) crossed, as we wait for the lymph nodes pathology… which will dictate whether I’ll need chemo or not. I’m hoping for not. But if yes… I shall rock the bald head look (and accidentally on purpose aim all my puke in the direction of people I dislike… for therapeutic purposes, of course). 😉

 

it’s cloudy outside, but my wee garden remains sunny

my passiflora bloomed a gift for me

for those of you not on Facebook or Instagram, here is the glory of my witchy grin right after the de-boobing

 

61 thoughts on “A One-Breasted Witchy Woman and a Piano Man Enter the ER…”

  1. My precious love. You are a trooper! I know it. Mother Nature may be bitched in her head (lol seriously), but never ever lose that sunshine in your wee garden, and in your heart. Stay strong, and keep fighting! The pain just wants to get the best of you, and make you evil. Don’t let it. Keep your head up high and stand tall. And keep smiling! And laugh in the face of pain, cause you are tougher than it. It just wants to keep bitching at you 😉

    Glad to hear everything went well lovely. Hugs and kisses ♥ xoxo

  2. Love your poetic spell, and your garden, especially with blooming passiflora, and your strength, and the way you write, and your humour … and of course we all love your incredible Piano Man … and YOU! Don’t much love incompetent medicos or the thought of what you went through, but thanks be for your surgeon. Your witchy grin and amazing hair look brilliant even in a hospital bed. xxxx

  3. Letting your Piano Man spoil you would probably be good for you both. Thank goodness they were able to get you the correct meds in the end. *hugs* Here’s to a non eventful recovery and good news from the pathologist!

  4. Love your very powerful poem! Your story didnt quite provoke a giggle, I knew right away where it was heading; all I could think was, “oh no…” Of course you and your Piano Man handled the situation like the amazing people you are (thank goodness for your surgeon). Rest and heal my sweet (wicked) warrior!

  5. I’m so wonderfully delighted that you are doing so well after your maiming, but don’t over do it. If you have any chrysacolla stones tbey ate great to use for pain. I will continue sending healing energies your way.

    Now rest my Wicked Writer Friend and let that Piano Man feel like he’s helping.

    Much love and hugs(loosely of course) Ashley

  6. Take all the spoiling you can get! I can’t believe your out, already! I should have just expected it. Big love to you, Piano Man, for taking such care of Magaly. Sending good mojo for the lymph node pathology. Take care, rest well! Love the poem and really appreciate the update!

    • I was very happy to be out of the hospital so quickly. And my body shows evidence that suggest I will be out of this bandages and away from my drains just as quickly, too. It must be all that magical mojo!

  7. I am in awe of you and Piano Man. You because you are truly the bravest, most amazing woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. No one else I know would grin as wide and wonderful as you after a proper de boobing. You are a rock star.
    And as for your knight in shining armor. He couldn’t be more of a “goodie”, honestly. Let him pamper you. He needs that in order for him to heal from your surgery.
    Love to you both. Fingers crossed on the pathology and I’m loving your surgeon for her “after” care with the ER people.
    Smooches and tender gentle Squoozes, Oma Linda

    • Life and time (and illness, too) are so good at showing us the people and things that matter, the ones worth loving to the moon and back… I think this detail is one of the most important bits of knowledge I’ve received from this booby issue: I know my friends, my loves, the real ones… from my Piano Man to the rest of my close blood family to you to the few others who stand in our circle to some I didn’t even know where there. It was a bad thing that brought wonderful things to life. I am grateful for that. And for you, my Oma.

  8. What a post, Magaly. You’ve got me smiling – with a lump in my throat. And that almost never happens to me. Well, what can I say. Bushel baskets of awe and respect going out from me to you. You can sprinkle it liberally upon your Piano Man, as well. Keep on doing what you’re doing – I think you are magical. Best wishes.

  9. You are truly an inspiration! The ER doctor bears strong resemblance to some I have encountered. You handled it with far more grace than I would have (think sharp knives). Hoping for good news on the pathology. Your Piano Man is a keeper!

    • I was more disgusted and cautious than angry. I will get angry on paper, while reporting his terrible service. I got lucky and wasn’t truly affected by his negligence, but I suspect others might not have been. And anyone will be, if I get my say.

      And yes, my love is a keeper. I’m thinking about tying him to my bed. 😀

  10. Yay Magaly! Hello my witchy creatrix, so glad to read your words and swoon over your magnificent poetry..and such a gorgeous picture of you.. I can feel your spirit brimming over with glee ! I am smiling along with you and shining massive love, healing and magic always..
    hugs..thinking of you everyday and vibing lots of love your way
    Victoria

  11. It appears that the double-edged sword of being so good at spinning a tale and relating an anecdote is that life will keep furnishing you with plenty of wild material! 😉 So sorry you had to go through those shenanigans. Hope you feel much better in super quick time, and you know I’ve got everything crossed with regards to the lymph nodes! ♡ ♡ ♡ xo

    • I think I have material for at least thirteen pieces, lol! Always a silver lining, right?

      I’m feeling magnificent. Slightly sore (my back, mostly) because I can’t sleep in my body’s preferred position, but I think that will change in three days. The pain of the mastectomy has nothing on the Crohn’s stuff, even my period pains are worse, so… I was pleasantly surprised. I only needed pain meds the first two days. Right now, it’s just the discomfort of having tubes coming out of my body. I never knew cyborgs lead such an uncomfortable life. 😀

      Thank you for the everything crossing mojo!

      • I know about the drains because I had massive problems with mastitis after James was born (right boob) and had to have 3 surgeries in 11 weeks because of golf ball sized abscesses. The boob is still there, but it’s quite Frankensteined with long scars. Hope the tubes will be out soon! Thinking of you every day! xo

  12. Glad to hear that everything went so well, apart from the medication mix-up on leaving the hospital. Your beautiful smile from the hospital bed warms my heart! Keeping my fingers crossed that you won’t need chemo.

    • No chemo, no chemo, no chemo. Maybe if I say it aloud often enough it will turn out to be true. If not, be a star through chemo, be a star through chemo, be a star through chemo… We should always be ready to revise our priorities, right? 😀

  13. What can I say, Magaly? Everyone has already said it above. You’ve taken it all in your stride, come out smiling and written an amazing poem/spell to kick it into touch! Keep dancing! By the way, I love the lines:
    ‘I’m blooming you dry, pain of mine,
    making dandy fluff out of lion’s teeth’.

  14. Bwahahahahaha….*yes I laughed* and now have a crazy image of you doing the zombie shuffle into the ER grinning your wickedest grin, clutching a paper bag marked “hazard”. Behave and let your Paino man soothe your wounds like a good little trooper *still giggling* 😀 XXX

    • You know, I should take a picture with the outfit I was wearing that day–a flannel shirt in pastel colors, PJ bottoms with writing on it, a red and black headscarf, boots… And everything was two sizes too big (for recently maimed comfort). I swear it, everything screamed zombie. I’m still giggling, too. 😀

  15. you gorgeous warrior witch..adore your amazing smile and beautiful attitude!
    Sorry about the mix up with the meds..there’s a huge epidemic of opiod abuse here too..
    after my surgery, my insurance delayed the pain medication prescriptions for 10 days, by which time, I did not need them anymore:)

    You can rock any look, my dear!
    Love your just in case plans for the trajectory of your vomit..
    we will keep sending positive thoughts and prayers your way!!

    Love you!!

  16. What a delightful story teller you are! I didn’t know about this blog or I would have heard about your illness sooner.
    Get well soon and I hope it’s good news my hopes are with you. Big hug (not too tight.)

  17. My biggest wish for you is healing and relief from pain. I know you are well cared for and have the heart and mind to endure the immediate after effects of surgery.
    Sending positive thoughts and sunflower smiles.

  18. Don’t u just love it wh n they don’t believe you?! That once seeing your body that maybe they should of listened to u instead of coming off like some typical male asshat? I bet if u had a female attending it would have been different. And I know u wanted out of there but I’ve learned to always check what I was supposedly given. After all you’re dealing w/ very FLAWED people
    Btw I just got a visual of u two and the description u gave has me rolling!🤣

    • I had never experienced that with medications before, but I can’t say I blame the doctor for his mistrust either. Once, I was sitting in the pain management office, waiting to see my chiropractor, when a patient attacked a doctor because the doctor told him that he could not give him more pain killers–he had taken a month’s worth in less than a week. It seems to be a common occurrence in the VA. Pain can make people do terrible things to themselves and others. It sort of sucks that everyone must be inconvenienced because of it, but… if this is the only thing that can be done to keep Veterans from hurting themselves, then I’m all in.

      • A month’s worth in a week?! Wow. Seems the patient was on his way to becoming addicted. There has to be an alternative. Taking so many pain killers is not good at all for the psyche as well as the body

  19. Everybody in this household is cheering you on! They ask me how you could have such a smile after what you justwent through and I replied she is a super Witchy Woman . Your strength and endurance is not only encouraging to me but others in my lineage.

  20. You have such a beautiful smile! Sending lots of love to you and your Piano Man! Keep kicking ass Magaly! I am so happy everything went so well, besides the mix up with the medication! Praying that you don’t have to have chemo! Big Hugs!

    • There will be kicking! I thought a lot about you while I was in the hospital, kept on looking out my window to see if I saw a crow, lol! None visited me, but I did find a wee robotic dog in one of my walks, and brought it home. I named it Booby. 😀

  21. I can’t tell you how relieved and happy I am to learn you are okay, Magaly! 😍😍❤️ Yes hopefully there won’t be any need for chemo. Love, love, love this ‘healing wish’ a bright spark of joy and light! My prayers and thoughts are with you! ❤️

  22. You are an amazing poet and person full of strength and all that is wonderful in the human spirit Magaly!! Thank you for keeping us with you on your journey, and I pray for healing, love, and joy to surround you. Sending hugs as well! 🙂

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