Ok, so... I've been off line for a week. It's been a crazy week. A lot has happened. My life is always full of drama if you haven't noticed. I have a Bumper sticker that reads: Drama Queen. I think one of my sisters got it for me, Im not sure. But it suits me. And this week was no exception.

2 weeks ago, I noticed a small lump growing in my right arm pit. No big whoop. I blew it off. Another boil. I am actually, gross as it sounds, prone to getting them. Just one of my many down falls I guess. They never bother me really. They form, get a bit sore, come to a head, pop and wallah. All gone. Not this time. The lump never stopped growing. The pain kept getting worse. Working was getting so painful as I tried to lug parts around without crying.

It got to be so big, that I had to hold my arm in a bent position like as if it were in a sling and pray no one bumped or nudged me. (I never got so lucky) Then, it grew so big I could barely hold my arm in any position. I couldn't dress myself without bawling in pain, could not comb or tie back my hair. Tying my shoes wasn't hapening at all. And even ordinary tasks like using the bathroom left me reeling in pain and scared I'd have to call a co worker in to help me get my jeans up.

I got scared and called my doctor's office who said they couldn't get me in for another week at best. Not good. So I drove the 45 minutes to town to the walk-in urgent care type clinic. The doc got me in and took a look. He didn't seem too concerned and then he started poking and prodding. He wasn't very gentle I didn't think. He made it hurt so bad I was bawling, close to peeing myself and I came one more poke away from beating him to within an inch of his death.

He gave me some antibiotics and pain killers. Told me to take those, rise it out 2 or 3 days and if it didnt pop, to go back. Heh. As if. I went home after I got my scripts filled. Took all my pills as I should, continued working. The pain kills left me stoned, but didn;t touch the pain. And the next day, after a few hours of fitful sleep, the lump had grown to the size of a baseball and I couldn't move. Even walking hurt. I was terrified. I called the doc and he sent me to see a surgeon.

I got Shawn out of bed for the drive to town. We get to the surgeon's office in record time. But when I get there, the nurse told me how sorry she was, the doctor had left a few minutes earlier but would be glad to see me in 2 days time. What fucking ever. I bawled. Had a break down right there in the empty waiting room as a blubbered about my situation and how I didn't think I had that much time. She took a look at my lump and immediately sent me headed quickly for the ER.

Shawn doesn't do hospitals. So I knew I would be alone. He was prepared with his Tom Clancy novel and a soda and waited out in thr truck. If he only knew how long he'd be sitting there...

The ER nurse looked at my lump, rushed a doctor in almost instantaneously. He looked at my lump and I saw the concern. He started his own series of poking and prodding to the point that I was wailing, ripped the rail off the bed and slurring out a strand of obsenities that made even me blush... and that's bad.

Finally he stopped. Not soon enough if ya ask me. He had the nurse fit me with an I.V. and then had her draw blood. Then she too asked to look and started poking at it. I slapped at her and told her I wasn't a carnival freak. The doc came in and quietly scolded her. They all left me alone with my tears and fear while they waited for the resident surgeon.

When the surgeon ariived, another nurse came and took yet more blood. Ugh. I told her they now had enough blood to paint a whole flipping house. She said, you already had blood drawn. I only replied with a "duh!" All she said was "oops" and I musta looked like I was goinna kill her cuz she booked out of there rather fast.

I finally fell asleep amid all the quiet whispering and woke to hear the quiet clanking of metal utensils on the metal tray beside me. My heart lurched. The surgeon and his trusted assistant entered and had me sign a waiver for sedation and to give permission to hack away with their sterile scalpel. I signed and asked them for Shawn.

It wasn't too much longer and they started sedation. No Shawn anywhere. I started rambling about minor stuff, the weather, the birds, the war. The anesthesiologist looked at me funny and asked if I felt funny. I said no and kept talking. About 10 minutes later the surgeon asked me the same thing. I said I felt just fine. I heard the sedater mention something about giving me enough sedation to knock a horse on it's ass (Well, maybe she didn't say "Ass"... I think she used fanny) Hearing that increased my panic and I really started chattering away. Then I stopped. The room started spinning and everyone with it. The pain was gone.

That's when I launched into a slurred but happily sung rendition of sthlippitty-dooo--daaaahhh, sthlipppity ayyyyyyyy.... Everyone was cracking up. I didn;t stop til I felt the knife slit from one side of my arm pit to the other. It didn;t hurt. I knew it should have though and I was a bit freaked and in shock. I was awake and they cut me open. I started praying.

The nurses gasped, the doctor looked stunned... I wanted to run. This was bad. Bad, I tell ya. Bad!

Then the vaccuum started. The tube ran from the little wand that was connected to a tube that ran just over my fae into a jar with measurement markings on the wall. I saw the blood/puss/chunky mixture flowing thru the tube. I said something about passing out. I did.

I came to an hour and a half later. A hole in my arm. Stoned. And then was scolded about not getting care for it earlier. He said an infection started in my sweat glad and was filled with a poisonous puss. If it has exploded within and drained into my blood, it could have killed me.

That's something I wanted to hear. He told me they were keeping me overnight to monitor me since my white cell count was down, my blood prssue and temp were up. And they wanted to be sure they got everything. Like I would let them go back in. As if.

So now, Im home. I have a hole in my arm pit. It's hollow. They didn't stitch it. I just ahve to bathe 2 times a day and run clean water thru it... (Nahh, Doc. I use dirty water to bathe, damn!) and cover it. No soap, peroxides, no nothing. And if it starts hurting, bleeding or leaking puss I have to go back. Eww.

Im off work til Monday. Like I can afford it.

But Im gonna end this here cuz I took a round of drugs and they're sinking in...

More later. I WILL be back. Yeehaw!

Simply,

Sara