I know. Scary, right??? Haha! Ah well. I have to get off of them sometime. I tried a day off of them on Sunday and just about died, but I was also driving all day long to take my kiddos to that camp. But tomorrow is Thursday. A new day. So we'll just whip out that Tylenol and pop it like canday. I need to do some positive self-talk. "Kar, if you got off of oxycodone after your hysterectomy, you can DEFINITELY get off of percocet after your mastectomy. The mastectomy has been way easier than the hysterectomy was. You can dooo eeet!"
Although I will say that I'm facing something new in my recovery from the mastectomy - I'm having phantom pain. You know, when people have to get amputations, and they get phantom pain, like, their ankle really hurts, but they don't have an ankle?? I don't know if it's possible to get phantom pain from boob amputations, but for reals, I'm feeling it. I feel engorged. Like I just had a baby and my boobs have grown to size double-D's. It hurts. Maybe I should put cabbage leaves on my bony craters. Or take a shower and just let the milk run out to get some relief...wait, that won't happen...
So, today, let us add to the People Who are Way Too Nice to Karlenn List.
1. Five of my high school friends assembled a huge pink laundry basket with the fixin's for a "Karlenn is Cancer Free" future party. What a cute idea. For reals. It meant so much to me. And I'll seriously be able to throw a fabulous one. We're talking table cloths, cute lanterns, cute napkins, cutlery, those flaggy thingeys that you can string around, party favor bags, pink gumballs... And look at these invites they got made:
I'll definitely have a cloche hat to wear to our reunion. I'm tots going to get a cloche hat when I lose my hair. I love cloche hats. (I also love the ballet move called "cloche." It feels nice.) I have my favorite hats in my cancer hat directory circled. My son has chosen the wig he wants me to get. It's long blonde hair, with long layers and bangs.
2. See that Old Navy bag in that picture with the pink laundry basket? Filled with new school clothes for my kids. "New." "Clothes." These are words that are never used in the same sentence in my house, you guys. Phrases like "hand-me-down," "from my friend's kid," "Wal-Mart," and "part of the grocery budget," are more on track for us. So this is really, really luxurious. My Activity Days partner-in-crime (one of them - there are four of us partners in crime) brought it over for me today. What an amazing lady. And the shirts she picked for Sadie - priceless. They have those awful x, y charts we had to do in math, but with, like, cute hearts on them. And other fun t-shirts with funny little equations on them. It's like taking a horrible, torturous thing (math) and adding something cute and fun to it (hearts). That's my kind of math.
3. Another lady gave me $200 in cash today to buy school clothes for my kids. Not kidding. My jaw is still on the ground.
4. Another lady cleaned my disgusting fridge out. She deserves a medal for that.
5. Another lady packed all of our books and DVD's, plus cleaned my kids' disgusting bathroom.
6. This is cheating, because it was yesterday, but my cute friend Cassady came and packed books and a whole bunch of other stuff. I'm pretty sure. It's a little hazy, on account of the percocet. And she made me chili and cornbread. Which rocks because she graduated in Culinary Arts. Yumberry! (Have you seen that SoBe Zero flavor called "Yumberry Pomegranate"? It's okay. Ben HATES all SoBe Zero flavors. And I must say that the word "yumberry" is highly suspect. There is no such thing as a yumberry, is there? They should do, like, Raspberry Pomegranate or something. I don't really know what goes well with pomegranate. But they need to take out fictional fruit.)
Is it bugging you that I'm talking about getting spoiled? Let me know. I would maybe start to get bugged a little if I was you...
So, needless to say, I really need to get caught up on thank-you notes. I attempted to write some when I was on the higher milligram amount of percocet, and...well, I'm not sure they turned out okay. My sis, Nat, said that she couldn't even read my handwriting. I do remember trying to write, and seeing the lines of words go uphill instead of in a straight line, and frowning and trying to make them horizontal, but then having words write on top of other words instead... And seeing enormous writing on some cards and tiny, squinched writing on others. How embarrassing. I've started writing a little note on the backside of each envelope: "Warning - this was written while I was stoned. I'm so sorry..."