I got word this afternoon from the surgeon that Sammy came through his surgery fine. His blood count was low before surgery (it was okay last night) so they had to give him a transfusion and once they got in there, it was clear the tumor had started bleeding again. That means its a very good thing we bumped up the surgery from next Tuesday, otherwise this would've been a very different weekend.
There were no obvious signs of malignancy yet--his liver looked good, which was their greatest concern--but we won't know for sure until the biopsy results are in next week. I'm allowing myself to be cautiously optimistic, though. They project that he'll be able to come home Monday, and yes, he'll definitely be wearing the Cone of Shame. He just loves that thing so much.
Right now, I can breathe a sigh of relief that he's through the surgery and on the road to recovery...whatever that recovery may mean. Thanks again, all, for your well-wishes over the last 24 hours. I've really appreciated them and will be sure to share them all with Sammy once he's home.
I'm fighting the funk as best I can this week. I've had two "potato chip incidents" (one yesterday, one today) with all the stress with Sammy, but I've managed to stop myself before going too much out of control and have switched to tea just to keep my hands and mouth busy.
I was down 8/10 of a pound this week. With last week's much smaller loss, the two weeks together mean I'm finally just about back to where I was right before I got sick and stopped being active for awhile. By all rights, that downward trend should now continue, potato chip incidents notwithstanding.
I had my first run back with my 5k training group Wednesday night. I've been training on my own to work my way back up from being sick, but the week before last it was bitter cold and/or pouring buckets both times we had our scheduled group runs and I didn't think it was the best idea to do that so soon after being sick. This Wednesday was in the 50s, beautifully sunny, and just a light breeze--perfect running weather. Wednesday was our first night at 2 minute walk/5 minute run intervals (for a total of about 45 minutes). My husband was out of town so I was on my own, but I decided that might make it easier for me to stay in the middle of the pack. However, somehow, I still ended up at the front of the pack as we all sorted ourselves out after doing our warm-up. That meant I really struggled with speed. The front of the pack is where the faster runners like to start out--so the fact I ended up with them meant my pacing was all off. I would keep thinking to myself, "Slow down! Slow down!" but then I'd see the runners in front and hear runners behind me and would naturally start speeding up again--meanwhile feeling like I was running slow, comparatively speaking. I did fine the first two intervals, but by the third one my lungs were filling up and I was starting to struggle.
Did I mention, by the way, that we're now suddenly starting allergy season? And I've been having to use an inhaler? When I was training on my own, I had one really, really, REALLY bad run where my lungs were aching and I felt like I had leaden legs slogging through mud by the second half of the run. I was beating myself up for being so out of shape until I was coughing all the way home and realized I felt like I did during my worst parts of allergy season when I need an inhaler. I did some reading up and picked up the tip that I should be using my inhaler before I run, not waiting until after. Go figure. I did that the next day and had a much better time of it.
Still, Wednesday night, I hit the inhaler a couple of times before and during running and I still couldn't knock it out. I ended up walking parts of each of the 5 minute run intervals for the rest of the run. I was frustrated with myself until we got back to the store and were doing our stretches--RunKeeper sent me a congratulatory badge for "fastest 5k ever!" No no no no! I'm probably the only one who ever thought getting "fastest" was a bad thing. I knew that meant my pace was off. I got home and looked at my stats on RunKeeper--sure enough, I was running at a pace that was a minute or two faster than my normal on-my-own runs. I'm not at the point where I need to be worrying about speed right now--I need to find a pace comfortable for me to be able to run the whole thing without killing myself. Which means slower. A lot slower than I was apparently running Wednesday.
Thursday was a rest day, and today may end up being one as I have some school stuff I need to knock out today and potentially a family thing tonight. Tomorrow morning we're back with the running group (and DH is with me this time), and we're actually going to be running the course of the 5k we're doing at the end of April. My strategy this time is to start out at the back of the pack. I'm going to let a whole lot of people start, and then find my niche in the crowd and do my best to stay there, even if it feels like I'm running slower than I'd naturally be inclined to run. Maybe that way I'll get through all those intervals without wanting to curl up on the side of the road and cry.
I refuse to give up.