Recovery Room: a walk in the park.

It turned out, that the surgical recovery center was outfitted with Jim Trotters, fantastical St. Louis monument photography. I believe my room was called "A walk in the park". The photograph in my line of site, was taken on mars. But on mars they built a park. That park was very similar to forest park here in St. Louis. I didn't know that Jim Trotter had a space ship. I hope he made a safe trip back into the earth's atmosphere.

This photo was taken by my father. I think he took about 30 photos. "say cheese" didn't offer the candid response he was looking to accurately depict the situation. I'm not sure exactly what we where smiling about, but I know it was super exciting. Double thumbs up!

I'm in and out of consciousness. Over the next I don't know how many hours.

Things I remember.
My dad went to Kolh's. I told him to go to target. But it turned out ok.

Someone brought me some Edamame (i just spelled that right on the first try! shit yeah magazine) There were also fortune cookies. Mine said "the more you give, the more you will receive." I didn't know confucisous was so into oral sex.

JT slept on the recliner. The recliner was made of wood and hardness. While they where manufacturing this recliner, they called in a focus group. When 10 out of 10 people where extremely uncomfortable. The chair then received high points and was propelled in to production. I personally watched him change positions, upwards of 3 million times over the course of the 8 hour night.

The buttons that are supposed to help you raise and lower your head on the bed. Are strategically placed in the exact spot you will never be able to reach on your own.

I had some yogurt, also a fruit cup.

Jeff, MU, JT, mom and Dave where in and out.

JC was in and out.

We watched the Big Labowski with my mom. She asked what the plot was about. We really couldn't give her an answer.

The next morning, my plastic surgeon came to check on her handycraft. I was standing up, with my arms above my head, trying to pull the knots of of my tangled mane. There was some surprise in her on face at my standing upon her arrival, I knew i was supposed to be laying down, I knew i was supposed to be not brushing my hair. And I was alone for the first time in quite a while, since for some reason my party of seven had dispersed. MU and Jeff and were probably making out somewhere in an unoccupied patient room. Dave and JT were probably outside smoking. My dad probably gave JT another business card. Mom was somewhere in a grey Chevy Malibu.

Ironically, this over night stay in "The Walk In the Park" was just that. Thanks to my friends Jeff and MU, even though those bitches won't give me back my keys right now and are suspect for hair product thief. Their timely arrival on the morning of the surgery, high spirits, energy and support helped to save not only save my sanity, but also save my sanity. I would had been a anxious nervous wreck. I am now in debt a legion of hj's.

I also couldn't have made it through this day/week with out JT. He woke up historically early and stayed close enough to me for the longest periods of time over the course of the day after, night after and days of recovery at gpeeps. JT is the only the person I need to see everyday. He's my ET.

My father jumped through hoops and took lashes to the back side with my drugged out dissatisfaction. But all his efforts were executed perfectly and are appreciated. Sometimes you know, men do the right things, go figure. And as stated above, we have this priceless photo to enjoy.

My mom was there to love me. I love you too mom.

BW. I didn't want to shatter your innocence by having you too close to the situation, but your availability at the right moments was crucial.

Everybody who came to the party, or gave me a face book "notification", email, text message, cards, flowers, etc. Thank you, I was living for that feedback all week.

Its been one week exactly. I'm already considering popping into work for a few hours, but maybe tomorrow. But tomorrow I'm also going to DELUX meeting, and the Art D member meeting. . .

Whoa.

Breath.

Awakening

In my mind there was two seconds from the time they inserted the iv and the moment i woke up mutilated, immobile, tubes and wires stemming from every wound. I was padded with cotton and this antithesis of sexy tank top bra that Velcro's at the shoulders. So I didn't have that dreaded "oh my god" my tits are gone feeling. Because actually there still are some bumps there.

MU, Jeff, JT, and my Dad where there. I know i was being a bitch. The bed was poorly designed. The buttons where ill placed, and someone made the mistake of giving me a little red button that allowed me to call upon an unsuspecting nurse at my whim. I couldn't do anything on my own. And the drugs make it very difficult to speak clearly. So people say "what?" and you mumble "hand me that please." then they say "what" again. And then you have to be like "god damnit whore give me some fucking water" Ok not really but after the third time, thats pretty much what my tone insinuated.

Behind the Center Doors

I wish i could remember more of the nurses names, but I can't. So I'm going continue to refer to them by description only. The Filipino nurse who called me into the back was the first to spend time with me. Take my blood pressure and all that pre-press bullshit. She set me up on the gurney.

A few things I didn't know they did during surgery:



Those blue things go on your legs. They alternate compression to circulate your blood while you're in the OR. The paper blanket with little gay blue bears on it connects to a hose (the hose previously mentioned in an earlier post I didn't want to imagine its purpose) The blanket fills up with warm air to keep your body temperature slightly higher than usual. Its sort of like a swimming pool raft.

My dad finally came back to stay with me before the hooked up the iv and knocked me out. And yep he had his camera. Starting to realize how very similar we are. In the moments before surgery I told him the story of how i got involved with art in St. Louis. I hadn't really realized how very far removed I've been from my family since my escape to college. This is perhaps the first time they've actually met me. As the me I am now, as a rebellious adult. Rather than a rebellious teenager. I'd like to think I've refined the process just a bit over that last 12 years.

D Day

I woke up around 5am. An hour before MU and Jeff were scheduled to show up and drag me out of bed.
As the day approached I had envisioned Jeff hog tying me, throwing me over his shoulder and dragging me kicking and screaming into the car. But when the witching hour arrived, there wasn't much fight left in me. Fortunately, I have these three friends, who whenever we are together, no matter what we are doing, we are partying. Laughing, screaming, yelling, making obscene jokes, laughing, did i mention making obscene jokes. The middle finger gets flashed a lot. We all find this hilarious. And as if we are going to roll out of town on the road trip of the century MU, Jeff, JT, and I pile in Jeff's car. My car gets loaded with some of the items I had thought to pack. To be picked up later on mission "get jenn to wildwood"

JT and I crash in the back seat, repeatedly singing, T.I.'s "Steady chasing the paper, Oh oh oh oh, just live your life", instead of logical conversation. We make it around the block. I forgot my insurance card. We roll back around one more time, "oh oh oh oh , just live your life...." I jump out and grab my wallet. BW is still pulling away. I press my hand to the glass of the back window, much like those scenes on life time movies, when the girl next door moves away forever from her grade school crush. This is quite possibly the end of all that business, i think, maybe, who knows confusion ensues, but is over shadowed by more important situations. And maybe I'll talk KM into "feelin it" so he can be happy."

The ride there is laced with sexual innuendoes, more laughter. Its quite a drive, mostly because of the 40 shut down. But even still, to us deep city kids, Creve Coeur is straight up out of town. We are little early, so we stop at Starbucks. Of course, I can't have anything. But Jeff and MU needed a little pick me up to make it through the rest the day after I went in, there was still much to be done.

Funny thing about cancer. Is that stereotypically, its for old people. So the waiting room is quiet. Very quiet. Very somber and grave. Until we get there. Still laughing, still joking, still singing that blasted T.I. song (boy are we annoying with that shit). But how can one freak out when they are having a little pre-operation party in the waiting room. Giggling, I approach the counter. Sign here, sign there, pay this, pay that. My father shows up in a suit and tie. With his business leather binder filled with organized information. He joins the party. Probably a little confused as to why we are all having so much fun.

It didn't take long before a tiny Filipino nurse came to the waiting room with a clip board, and my name rolled off her tongue. "Jenn Carter."

"Oh wait, everyone just went outside. I can i go say bye?" I say, as i look at her and then look outside where Jeff and JT went to smoke. They should really quite that shit.

I walk outside, hug JT, tell him I love him, hug Jeff, tell him i want to sleep with him (this is our code for I love you in our little way) I got back in hug MU, hug my father. The three party people have to get going to work and mission stage two. So now its just me. And Dave is left in the waiting room until he's called back.

One of the first things the nurse asks is, "Is this your family?"

MU matter of factly explains, "We're her BFF's"

"Did she really just say that?" JT smirks.

Yeah, so um, they are like my family, labels aren't important. I slip through the swinging door, and everyone but my father heads out the front doors.

Nurse turns to me and says "Is he in a band?"

"Ha, no." I shake my head because this is common misconception. "He should be though, huh, but he's an artist. Similar, but without the band."

JT BW AND JC go to the pool.

I had been trying to go the pool for the past three days. For starters, its hot as bloody hell outside. And for more obviously reasons: I wanted to get wet and bask in the sun one last time. My new fitness center is in the first level of an overpriced apartment complex. There is a quaint but absolutely sufficient outdoor pool. If you go in through the front you can pretty much bring in whoever you want through the back gate.

We all woke up fairly early. Enjoyed some freezer pops. For some reason JT boiled a couple of eggs and pulled out some left over salsa and chips from the party the night before. JR woke up and I was reminded of his burlesque performance just a few hours earlier. For a moment there in my morning haze I had forgotten about it. JT and I polished off the rest of the beer in the fridge. I finished the bottle of wine in the the condiment door rack. JT kept magically coming up with PBR's. (they were in the cooler) And we rocked out to some whitesnake, journey, def lepard, a few other awesomely bad 80's hair bands as we got ready for the pool. BW graciously decided to join us. You never know with him, he's always got to run off and do something less fun than our typical J-days. But, turns out his trunks were in his car. We all three piled in my wagon and headed to the pool. Rocking out to the new Cage album. JT and I pretty much have all the words memorized. So BW was assaulted with our singing as we made the trek to union and lindell. Cage makes me drive fast.

"Are we in some kind of hurry?" BW exclaims in the calmest possible voice.

"Yep. its hot as fuck" JT and JC say in unison. Then go back to screaming "Its like god opened the sky and handed you directly to meeeeeee, i know it sounds crazy but so is life, i'm sinking...."

We enjoy the water, the hot bitches, the happy inner-tubed children as long as we can handle it. Since it was about 2 by this point and no one had really eaten. We decide to get out dry off and go to Guidos, a fantastic spanish italian spot on the shaw in the hill. In no position to be frugal as I assumed over the next couple of weeks I'd probably not be spending much money, we order calamari, caprese salad, vodka tonics, and that that expensive italian beer JT likes to drink. BW got a couple of Heinekens, and more carbohydrates than JT and I had consumed in the last month. We are the only people in the place, so are allowed to wild out as we saw fit.

"You know you have to spend the entire day with us, don't you." We both say to BW.

"Huh?" as if he didn't know.

"Yep." another unison JT JC response.

BW sighs.... But submits to our day of fun.

One hundred dollars later, and a twenty dollar tip, I sign my name, and declare that having to bf's is fucking expensive. A joke that is funny because its true.

We head to the apartment. Where JT takes his mid J-day nap. And BW and I decide to go take care of a few things in his new shit hole apartment. (ok actually its really really nice, my jealously is through the roof, and I can't move in to the extra units, one because JT won't move to cherokee, and two because then i'd feel way on the stalker side.)

Big skip in the details here.....

Fast forward to us hearing his neighbors rocking out on drums and guitars. BW's neighbors are the two hottest lesbian chicks. Period. In all the world. LS is an amazing painter (with work in LAIC) and her partner stephanie rocks it on the drums, but also the guitar. They switch on and off. Just moved in from Chicago. Knowing I wasn't going to be able to hang with them and forge our new lifelong friendship for a few months, I immediately pounded on the door. They offered us wine and a little bit of green party favors. And we hang out long enough to convince them to rock it out again for a few. "We haven't played in month's, we're just warming up." LS modestly says. Shut up bitch you know you kick ass. Damn.

Some how we convince them to come back to my place because i've got a friend stopping by and they were out of cigarettes. So we caravan to QT, BW grabs some keystone (asshole) and we show up at my place to find my friend SV whining on the deck with JT. I spend some time feeling up SV's rack, she pisses off the chicks, which was actually quite hilarious, and as 11:59 approaches (my expiration date) I put down my last beer for a month. Say bye to the ladies, and pull BW to bed, leaving JT alone to see if he couldn't tap SV's ass. (he didn't by the way, she's impossible to penetrate).

The last Harrah.

Grammar disclaimer: I'm on valium and davarset. So this is a bit difficult.

I'm writing this post operation since the last week has been a crazy whirl wind of activity and emotion. The morning started with me waking up extremely angry at BW. I Told him to get the fuck out of my house, then had a panic attack on the back deck, then laid down in the shower for ten minutes. Then regaining my sanity sightly I burst into JT's room. "Get up!" I scream, "We're going to breakfast." He moans and turns back over. "Get up we are going to Rooster they have over 20 types of bloody marys." Boy do I know how to get that dude out of bed. So after some stumbling and grumbling we both drag ourselves out to my car and headed to Locust street where i had planned to meet several of my college Lacrosse team mates.

Knowing you're going to be down and out for several months is a great incentive to do all those things you say you'll do but don't always follow through with. So when a few of my colleges buds showed up to the Large and In Charge and we said we should go the the park and throw around, damn it we were going to the park. And when I found out Julie Whitman was in town and that we should all go to breakfast, damn it, we were getting up and going to breakfast. Even if it was at 9 in the morning and I was having a party in a couple of hours.

So Rooster on Locust is a cool spot, there are cocks everywhere. Right up my alley. Unfortunately, I was terribly hungover. And after a bloody that i loaded up with tobasco and rooster sauce, I threw up at the table. I was really subtle about it and no one noticed. JT even yelled at me for stealing his napkin. So breakfast was not so good, but it was good to see some old friends. Next headed to the store to haphazardly throw some food and beer into the cart at a puling attempt to feed the party goers. Cantaloupe, watermelon, chips and salsa, colt forty five (because it works every time), a thirty pack of highlife (because its the champaign of beers), and a pinky swear not to buy any hard liquor, and a giant bag of ice.

After we got back the crazy J's, jt and jc started the party. A couple of hours later some people showed up. Aliah and Eddie Holman, my gansta "boss" coworker and her recently obtained husband (the luckiest man on the planet in my own opinion) show up with a big brown bag of wing stop. Followed by the Weavers. And then Emily, a beloved ex co-worker now with child who husband just made it into the FBI. She'll be leaving town soon. After the early arrivals, I sort of lost track. The main high light of the evening was JR's lap dance in stripped man panties. I don't have any photos of that. And didn't remember until i was reminded in the morning while enjoying a mid-morning freezer pop.

I tried to burn my bras. But bras of these days are made out of synthetic materials. So they don't really burn. They just sort of melt. Which doesn't really have the same feminist impact. I just ended up ruining my favorite popcorn bowl.

There's many more photos of the party. Most of them involve boobs. Go fucking figure huh. They aren't on my camera. We'll post those later, when I get back home.

Xrays and Blood work

Woke up this morning at the regular time. Sat half way up and squinted towards the alarm clock. A floating red blur gradually sharpened into fuzzy numbers. 6:57. boo. I drag myself out of bed. Say "bye." And head down Kingshighway, the only road I ever drive all the way from Page to Gravois, back and fourth over and over.

This habitual journey switches my brain into auto pilot. I got home, got dressed, brushed my teeth, let the the dog out on the back porch, yelled box a hundred times, until balla scurried into my room jumped on bed, shut the door to my bedroom, and headed down the stairs to my car. Just like every morning I pulled out of my parking spot, turned left on to klemm, right on magnolia, right on tower grove, veer right on to vandevender. I see my boss on the way in at the high way left turn lane. Sometimes I stop here to get on the high way. But since she was there, and i was headed straight to work, I thought I'd use this opportunity to see which direction was faster. I get stuck at quite a few lights and behind a few left hand turners. But still get there right as AH is dropped her heeled foot to the cracked and littered asphalt. Pretty much a tie. I head to the elevator, hit 3, say hi t to the receptionist, to stacy, to Ah, sit down, start my computer, eat a granola bar, check my email, open this blog to proof read last nights entry, and then look up at the calender.

Xrays and blood work, eight thirty. Oh. yeah. woops. Call my favorite surgery scheduling nurse, Jackie, "Hey, Jackie, Jenn Carter, here, so i totally flaked on the appointment, can you fit me in?"

Drugs and medical apparatuses

6 drains that get emptied, measured and recorded 3 times a day.
pain pump (3 days)
Ibuprofen
Valium (fuck yeah)
Dramamine
Peri Colace (so you can poop on all these drugs)
Darvaocet N100
Percocet (oxycodone)
Amoxicillin Clavulanate (antibacterial)
Mupirocin (Ointment)

Ten Minutes Ago at Home: a tiny slice of j3

“Yeah that could be,” Jeremy says as he paces through the hallway.
“well.” He pivots and races back through to the kitchen.
“yeah” stands still in front of the tv and scratches his head
“your right.”
Pause while other is talking....
“But by far no arrests have been made.”
another long pause with lots of pacing.
“ok “
Word from the speaker.
“Alright thanks dana.”

Click on the phone.

With out missing a beat “well dana tells me that they got a call from some black guy, wrong number. Dana was thinking maybe they got the number from my laptop. I don’t know what would a bunch of seventeen to twenty two year old guys do with a computer that only had half a cord.” Pondering on that for a moment, then continues, “The enterprising criminal would have tried to extract some information.” And making one more pass to the hallway and back. “Who knows maybe they are sitting on it.”

“Yeah sure,” I say as I look up, its hard to type he’s talking so damned fast, I wonder if should ask him to repeat the last line, so i could be sure get it right. But I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that i was typing his words.

“If you're a pawn shop owner and some kids bring you a lap top and they give them a certain amount. Have you ever been to a pawn shop? I wonder if they do sell lap tops at these places? The motivation is to acquire something valuable for no work.” Jeremy then enters the bathroom.

Beautiful, calm, silence falls over the apartment.
I can hear the birds outside and my own thoughts in my head again.

15 days.

Nearly two weeks. I feel like I'm in limbo. "Purgatory is the condition or process of purification in which the souls of those who die in a state of grace are made ready for heaven." (wikipedia)

I've gotten most all of the craziness out of my system. And for the first time feel like maybe I do have someone to support me. And actually realizing that maybe I don't have one single person, but instead have everyone.

What are those things called at airports that are basically a flat escalator. You can either walk and go super human fast, or stand still waiting for the belt to carry to closer to your destination. My belt goes on forever like an infinity pool. Atmospheric perspective blur and fade the distance. Currently in my head, the reality of it all doesn't exist. As I move slowly towards the scheduled day, I can no longer feel anything about it. Playing a psychological game with myself, I try to focus on the negatives of these stupid breasts. I start to hate them. I resent their implications. Not just for being filled with inevitable cancer, but for being the source of attention for so many years and getting me in all sorts of trouble. Part of me wants them gone now, as soon as possible.

more morbidity

WORDS aren't working for me today.

21 days

I woke up this morning sure it was Wednesday the third, not tuesday the second.
SO it is as if I gained a day. Thank god.

I have this vivid image of my breasts sliced off and laying in a trash can. I keep thinking about their upcoming fate. I'm not sure what the standards of medical disposal are. But in my head they are whole and tossed like wobbling frisbee-orbs into a thick black trash bag a few feet away from my body. I see them they land on top a holocaust scene of discarded appendages.

I wonder if they would freeze them for me. Or put them in a doggie bag for me to take home like my family used to do with the fried chicken from Romines. I could buy a small casket for them and hold a memorial service. Bury them and place a head stone that reads "Here lies Jenn's Breasts, more to come, but not just yet."

I morn their death already.

sorry for the morbid post, i just can't get that image outta my insane head.