The Lump Part 3

I had surgery on my lump thumb this morning. (See The Lump or The Lump Part 2 if you're unaware of my lump troubles)

I’m waiting for Tylenol 2 at the hospital pharmacy. I’ve heard Tylenol 3 can kick your ass and the alcoholic in me was disappointed I wasn’t prescribed those ones.

My thumb is numb after 4 ridiculous freezing needles I wasn’t expecting. I let out a gasp on the 3rd needle and promptly announced that I’ve had 2 c-sections,  embarrassed at my inability to take a needle. I closed my eyes and pretended I was at the spa while the nurse put a warm blanket on me.

I never want to forget the image of my thumb on the operating table.  I’ll try and paint the reflection I saw of it from the ceiling light. Use your imagination, a painting of my little thumb, laid out on the surgery table like a little person, being brave under the bright surgery light. 

The plastic surgeon pulled the lump out  and showed me, bloody and the size of a pea. Tormenting me under my skin for 20 months. I’m the Princess, it's the pea. 

The plastic surgeon would start sentences and not finish them. He described something odd about the lump then trailed off which implies he saw something sinister within it. It’s being sent for a biopsy, to prove to me that it’s not related to the tick bite while I know it is. Borrelial lymphocytoma. I almost asked if I could keep it after, put it in a jar or something, but I forgot.

He’s going to take the stitches out in 2 weeks after he gets back from wind sailing along the Columbia Valley in Oregan at his second property (acquired after the market crash), where it might be 15 degrees but is more likely going to be 20 or 25. 

He told me not to lift anything with it or shovel for 2 weeks. It’s currently snowing (in April!) and I’m throwing a surprise birthday BBQ tomorrow so, the timing is poor. Maybe I’ll just turn the sprinkler on and the snow will melt as its above 0.

I can take the giant bandage off tomorrow which is a disappointment. I was hoping I could keep it on for the entire 2 weeks for shock value. I’ll milk this as long as I can if it gets me out of making dinner at least a few times. 

The whole thing took less than 15 minutes but it was one of those scenes I know I’ll be playing in my head over and over for years to come.

I read yesterday on Facebook that surgeons make the worst husbands, so says a group of divorce lawyers. And since mine didn’t know the name of his adult drummer sons touring band, I can see why. But maybe he’ll be redeemed in 2 weeks when I get the stitches out. I can’t wait to hear how wind surfing was. 

Luckily, the pharmacist tells me these painkillers are pretty heavy duty, so I’m thinking I’ll take a couple and and go shopping for discount Easter figurines at the hospital gift shop, my favourite kind of store.