Grounded! Grrr!

I think I should have this hung around my neck, I am feeling quite volatile; boredom is setting in!

I went to see the Oncologist yesterday, and after some discussion we settled on a course of 25 sessions of Radiotherapy starting in a couple of weeks time. I will get the appointment sent from Southampton direct, so I am not exactly sure when. I mentioned that I was quite uncomfortable under my arm, and in my shoulder. I had a full range of movement, but there was visible swelling, that had initially subsided after the surgery, but had returned and was visible in my arm too. The area felt hot and hard, and I've since noticed it in my breast too. A dull ache that doesn't go away when you take Paracetamol. I was referred to the Breast Care Nurse(BCN), so waited to see her afterwards.

The BCN asked had I been resting plenty, I lied - yes! I neglected to tell her that I had washed the utility room floor and then spent an hour and a half ironing sheets and pillow cases and various other items that morning, giving up using my left arm as it was too slow and cumbersome, and using my right instead. I omitted to tell her that the previous day, I had taken myself of to the nearest large town on the train, and spent 3 hours rummaging around the shops, carrying 4 bags full; 3 books from Waterstones, a bevy of bras from M and S, and a fabulous wool blanket found in TK Maxx.

She looked at me sideways, I am not a convincing liar, and proceeded to lecture me. Upshot is, I have to rest, and she means rest, til Friday, and take pain relievers/anti-inflammatory every 4 hours, and return to see her on Friday at 2.30. If the swelling hasn't subsided, she will drain it; I hate to think what that will entail, but I have a reasonable idea.

To make matters worse, my Mother called in yesterday lunchtime, and the first thing she saw was the ironing board. Icy glare. Then she asked why was my arm puffy. I felt about 11 years old again, ready to rebel and protest. Today, my Father phoned me, and effectively read the Riot Act, albeit with humour, and told me if I didn't start being sensible he was going to phone my Consultant and tell her how stupid I was! Grassed up! Tsk! So how am I feeling? A mixture of being really cross with myself for doing too much too soon, and being arrogant enough to think I could get away with it, and mind numbing boredom. Even the new books I bought and dragged home on the train, have lost their appeal. I'd really like to go for a walk, and take some pictures of what I find in the woods near the cottage, but that will probably do more harm than good too. Moany, moany, whiny whiny me; I know!