the wrong bus

• Jan.  12 - Diagnosed with cancer.
• Feb.   5 - Wedge resection lung surgery, three tumors removed.
• Feb.   7 - Drainage tube removed from said lung.
• Feb.   8 - Home from Vancouver General Hospital.
• Feb. 12 - Biopsy result: squamous cell carcinoma.
• Feb. 17 - One and only stitch removed.

That starfishy thing at the right? It's a piece of lung with cancer. It's interesting, how things change after you've been diagnosed with cancer and start to enjoy new experiences brought about by the disease.

For example, my doctor said, "Your incisions look good," as he removed a stitch this afternoon. Sigh. I remember being told that my hair looked good, my clothes looked good and even my ass looked good. Today, my incisions look good and my doctor looks too young to be practicing medicine. I'm obviously on the wrong bus, but I don't know how to get off.

The stitch hadn't been bothering me but, now that it's gone, I'm missing a pinching feeling when I turn or move a certain way. I'm also missing an occasional jab from the end of the heavy, stiff thread (they don't really use catgut),  and a pull when it got caught in a seam of my shirt. I assume you know I don't mean "missing" in a gee-I-can't-live-without-you kinda way.

Still some sharp twinges in my chest but nothing serious. My breathing is improving daily, and I can almost accomplish a full yawn. It's really nice to be able to sleep on my side again, and I look forward to being able to sleep on the other side too. Still to come, being able to sneeze without feeling like I've been tasered by an overzealous RCMP officer at YVR.

I left the hospital with instructions for a number of exercises, including deep breathing and coughing. Yes and, coughing exercises and, no, I wouldn't have imagined that one either. I guess it's good for expanding the lungs or toning their muscles or something. I have no idea. I just do my exercises and don't question the experts, but I have to say my coughing has improved tremendously. At first, it was a pathetic little, "huh!" but now it's sounding like an almost-respectable smoker's cough.

I have instructions not to lift anything over ten pounds for 6-8 weeks. Ten pounds is nothing. My cat weighs ten pounds, my camera bag weighs ten pounds. This is the most difficult part of the whole recovery, not being able to pick up my cat. Poor Fraser, he probably wonders what he did wrong. Not only am I not picking him up but, in bed, when he heads for his usual snuggle spot across my shoulder, he gets shoved to the floor. He is adapting though. Now he avoids walking across my chest by walking across my face. This is especially charming at 3 a.m. when I'm sound asleep. Imagine ten pounds of weight distributed to four relatively small paws. Then imagine one of those paws stepping on your closed eyeball, pressing down with most of that ten pounds. Charming.

I've been taking red reishi mushroom capsules since I've been home from hospital. Okay, I see your eyebrows go up and your eyes get big, but let me explain. Ganoderma lucidum has been the subject of a number of legitimate, reputable medical studies, and it not only shrinks tumors in lab rats but, in people, alleviates the side-effects of chemo and radiation treatment for cancer. I am a skeptic, but I do believe in science, so we'll give this stuff a fair trial.

Not having had cancer before, or a piece of lung removed, I have no idea how I should be feeling, but I suspect I'm doing pretty well considering that for several months before surgery I was pretty much bed-ridden and unable to eat anything but the blandest diet (I'd lost over 40 pounds, but I'm pretty sure that was from not eating rather than the cancer). In the past week, in spite of the surgery, my appetite's improving, pain and nausea have vanished, my energy level is increasing and my strength is returning. Is it the mushroom? I don't know, but I'm going to keep taking it.

No more Dilaudid, morphine, Ativan, Gravol and a few other prescription medications for nausea, and no more "puffer" shots of whatever that stuff is that allows you to get enough oxygen not to pass out. My drug consumption has been reduced to chewing a half dozen pieces of nicotine gum throughout the day (it's Day 14 as a non-smoker).

Throughout the day, I do think of having a cigarette, or rather of enjoying a cigarette, but the thought passes quickly and it's taking longer and longer to return. However, I firmly believe that everyone needs at least one bad habit, so I'm drinking a glass of wine before dinner, or just to be sociable if someone drops over. Or, if the sun is shining and I'm in the garden.