That "Exu" is a Weepy Fellow

So, I presume ya'all read about my latest beau, Exu Date? I posted a link to my blog entry on Exu on Facebook and one of my friends observed, "Boy, it sounds like your date is a weepy fellow!" I replied, "Yes, I kinda pictured myself with more of a 'manly man' to date!"

But geez, that guy is really crying now! He's making a mess of my clothes! I can hardly keep enough "kleenex" around. The wound care nurse even gave me some "Kleenex" that we hoped would last two days and it lasted only a day and a half. Then, of the other dressings she gave me, I totally ruined the clear plastic ones that would cover the dressings and make them waterproof. It folded in on itself (sorta hard to put a dressing on in your armpit, which makes one hand more or less useless - guess you need to be double-jointed, too, with this disease!) and I had to throw it away.

Imagine this: a person standing over their bathroom sink, trying to keep the dressings sterile, with one arm raised, trying to hold a dressing in place with that same hand (c'mon, try to hold a dressing under your left armpit using your left hand! Oh, wait! Just had an idea, how about having a special Olympics category labeled one-arm dressing changes? It is a form of acrobatics and gymnastics rolled into one!), and using the other hand to place another dressing (about 4 inches x 4 inches) in the right place, making sure not to cause the adhesive to stick to itself or to anything else) over a third boob that has a totally uneven surface, with a nice fold underneath that makes it hard to put tape over.

So now I don't have a waterproof dressing and I don't have the clear thin plastic dressing to cover the area to keep it from leaking. At least, until tomorrow when I see the wound care nurse again. And that damn Exu is crying! I am back to changing the dressing two or even three times a day, he is soaking through the dressings so fast.

I woke up with wet under my arm at about 5:30am, so rather than change the thing (which takes about 30 min), I stuck a washcloth under my armpit to make it through rest of the night. It's not a pretty sight. I am already feeling mighty tired of this situation. It was bringing me down, mood-wise, but now that I have tried to paint a comical picture of my Exu-Olympics, I started grinning.

Besides, I kinda like the image of Exu crying. Exu is the cancer, after all, so he's crying because he's losing the fight under my armpit. Go go go Herminator-2 cells!

P.S. I was supposed to be in Norway now, attending the International Conference on Indigenous Place Names in Guovdageaidnu. I am disappointed that I didn't get to see my friends,but on the other hand,I couldn't imagine traveling with these dressings and having to change them frequently or having to contend with leaky dressings or running out of supplies or clean clothes, etc. Best to be at home in case the worst happens!