Today's the six-week anniversary of my ovarian tumor and a lot of other things removal surgery. And yesterday, I had my appointment with my local gynecologist, Dr. P, to clear me for full activity.
And yes, I am cleared for whatever I want or need to take in hand. He said, "Everything inside is healed up by now." I mentioned how I had "been good" and given up on, say, opening stuck windows because I felt my abdominal muscles pull. "If you don't push past that," he said, "you'll never get any stronger." Good, that means I may and can and should go on with it. How much exertion is too much? Let's put it this way: As in ordinary exercise, I'm to ignore those who tell you to "go for the burn." Otherwise, let the garden digging begin!
And guess what? I wasn't crazy or deluded when I thought the ovary with the mass was the righthand one. Dr. P, going by the sonogram, thought so, too. Apparently, there's things you can tell from those images and things you can't.
I asked him if he was looking for some uterine problem when he clapped me in for that ultrasound. Yes, he was, and I picked up that he was more shocked than I was when the ovarian mass was revealed. I, after all, had been worrying about ovarian cancer before I even booked my examination by him in mid-February. I got my cancer anger and fear over with beforehand (thanks to the answered prayers of many). I mentioned this to Dr. P, and he said, "Yes. I see. And once you knew the mass was there, it was a matter of dealing with it."
I thanked him for his expeditious action and vigilance. As I've commented in this blog before, the symptoms that got me in to see him turned out to have nothing to do with the ovarian cancer. It would have been so easy for him to have treated them and sent me blithely on my way, with the mass silently growing in me until it was practically too late.
My friend Frieda* gave me a ride to this appointment, then had to return to work. She offered to excuse herself and come take me home, but I celebrated my liberation by walking the two miles home. It was a nice day to walk along the bluff above the Ohio River, admiring the houses and what was growing in people's front gardens.
And shortly after I arrived home, I got my car key and when out and drove it for the first time in six weeks. Only from one side of the street to the other, so I wouldn't get ticketed when the Borough swept the other side of the street last night.
But alas! not everything is good to go. The check engine light came on on the dash and wouldn't go off! This evening I asked my next door neighbor, who's been moving the PT Cruiser back and forth each week to avoid the Borough sweeper, if he'd noticed any lights that stayed on, and he said no. He thought the rotors on the front brakes were grinding, though. And when I moved the car back tonight, I noticed it, too.
I'd really hoped to go get some garden plants tomorrow. But I see online that driving with the check engine light on could prove dangerous. So I remain effectively carless until I get can get it into the shop and fixed. And that won't be till Saturday morning.
Otherwise, it's time to get back to normal and get things done.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Good to Go-- Mostly
Posted by St. Blogwen at 8:30 PM
Labels: cancer, car, medical matters, surgery
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