Ice Packs and Ice Cream

A huge horizontal incision trails across my chest. The steri-strips are yellowing and slightly pulling away. It's been a little over a week since this last surgery. I am sore. No, that's an understatement...I am EXTREMELY sore. I feel like I have had a type of Chinese water torture but instead of water, battery acid has been slowly dripped inside my chest wall. Drip by drip the acid bores deeper through tissue and the pain doesn't ease up. I try hard not to complain, but it really hurts. I used to think I had a high pain threshold but now, I'm not so sure. I think I've become a bonafide wimp.

On Tuesday, I went to the doctor and had fluid drained off. It was not pretty. After the fluid had been drained off, the doctor and the nurse used me for a human maypole. They took wide elastic bandages and wrapped me like a mummy. I was instructed to remain wrapped up for a week to ten days. The wrappings were to help keep the fluid from rebuilding. I went home and took a couple of pain pills and put an ice pack on my chest. The coldness of the ice pack took my mind off of the chest pain and maybe helped just a little.

Today has been a difficult day. I've felt pretty rotten. I woke up feeling bad. My incision is pulling and the burning continues. When I took a shower, I noticed several steri-strips have come loose. I imagined there were stitches under them but I can't see any. Dr. S. must have used surgical super glue again. At my last surgery, she told me there were stitches inside but she used glue to hold the outer edges of my incision together. She said it made for a cleaner line, a prettier piece of work. So the steri -strips were reinforcements, to hold things together until I've healed. I've had an ice pack on most of the day and Advil has taken a slight edge off the pain.

My sweet hubby volunteered to go to the grocery store for me. We haven't been in weeks and both the cupboard and the fridge are bare. I made out a small list. I didn't want to overwhelm him. I told him as he was leaving that I knew I hadn't thought of everything and asked him to pick up other things he thought we might need as he was perusing the aisles.

I lay on the sofa and rested while he was gone. Discouragement overtook me and I began to cry. How much longer was this ordeal going to continue? It seems I've been in recovery mode for almost 2 years now. As I lay there thinking, my chest pain intensified. I got up to go change out the now thawed ice pack with a frozen one.

The sound of the garage door going up signaled that hubby was home. I watched as he brought in the bags of groceries and put them on the kitchen counters. As I rose from the sofa to put the groceries away, he waved me off. "I've got it," he said. So, I watched. He systematically put away each item and mentioned, as he opened the freezer, "I got you some ice cream, too." (I didn't ask for ice cream but he knows how much I love it.)

We had lunch in the living room. (We rarely eat at the table any more unless it's something messy and we just feel like sitting in there.) After lunch, he asked if I wanted some ice cream. As I readjusted my ice pack, I smiled at him with a big cheesy "yes, please" grin. He fixed me a big bowl of Moose Tracks and as he slipped it into my lap, I whispered up a silent prayer..."thank you, God, for ice packs and ice cream. The ice packs help me feel better on the outside and the ice cream helps me feel better on the inside. Thank you most of all for my sweet husband and for his tender, loving care. He's so good to me and I am so very blessed.

I'm so tired of hurting but I know it won't last forever. At least I've got ways to get a little more comfortable when I need it. I'm so thankful for the person who invented ice packs but even more thankful for the person who created ice cream!

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