Marc and Monica go to South Australia for the weekend. I am home with Sam for the weekend, I thought no problem I won’t be doing much. On the first morning that they are away I am innocently in the bathroom having a wash.
All of a sudden I notice that there is a strange sound. As I am standing there I notice that the length of drain that was inside my chest has fallen onto the floor! I didn’t really feel anything. But I am looking at this thin king “now what do I do?”
I guess it wants to come out; I am not sure what to do? I call my sister who is a medical professional, she is always great for advice, she does not answer, Marc is in mid air, I can’t put it back in, I decide to call the nurse. They say they will be there asap, they come 2 hours later. I have put a dressing over the top as it is oozing, lovely!
I am skipping about the house as much as a one boobed sore woman can skip, trying not to panic. I am sure I look like an epileptic cockroach. Oh well Sam is sleeping in so there in no audience.
The nurse arrives, she is calm so then I begin to calm down too. The drain is out, the dressing is removed from my chest. I must say it is freaking me out, the scar is healing well but it looks like the 2 edges of skin are just resting together and can open any time. I begin to have these visions of the flesh parting, it’s horrible.
My wound is so sore, I thought they said when the drain comes out I will feel better I am just as sore if not sorer. It may be due to all of my jumping about previously in a panic. With time, as the drain pain lessens, I can move a bit more freely without the bag attached to me. I no longer look like a lost librarian with my shoulder bag. I feel like I am beginning to make some progress. Yippee!