I didn’t actually do the calculations. But finger wise I’m a 9 out of 10. And thinking about it, I don’t have my own blood. I waved bye bye to that a long time ago. So while I may be more than 90% me at the moment I’m also definitely less than 100% me. Whatever it is I am, I’d like to stay at this percentage for a long long time.

Quality Time With My Thumb
For the last few weeks I’ve told Lindsey I was spending quality time with my thumb. That might be playing a Nintendo Switch. That might be grabbing something and holding it. It might simply be just looking at my thumb. I would tuck it under my hand imagining what it would be like for it not to be there. The imagination is a one way street there. While I can tuck it away and imagine it gone, now that it’s gone there is no way to imagine it being back again.

Surgery Prep
This was my 5th surgery in the last 3 months. And my 4th hospital. I had my first hand surgery at Eskenazi. Two kidney surgeries at West. My TORS at North. And the thumbectomy at University. It’s like the worst secret shopper job in the world. I have the pre-op routine down pat. You get wipes for your body. Mouthwash and a sponge for your mouth, tongue, and teeth. And then q-tips with iodine for your nostrils. All in the name of infection control. Not only that but I showered with chlorhexidine the night before as well. I was one clean mf’er.

Pre-Op
Prior to surgery we do this little dance where the anesthesiologist and surgeon come in to walk me through paper work that I’m going to sign anyway. It’s not like we are going to go through red lines before they cut me open. It’s a fun exercise where I don’t read anything on the paper. I just sign where they point to. This time something caught me by surprise though. I expected to “be under”. As in “knock me out and wake me up when I’m done”. But the Anesthesiologist had other ideas. Putting me totally under brings greater risk. If I’m only a little bit under then I can breath on my own. That made me instantly anxious. Like I’m not wanting to hear the sound of a bone saw or the attending talking the resident through exactly where to cut. Begrudgingly I signed the consent with the reassurance that he could put me totally under in 30 seconds or less if he needed to. And he did need to. Because my body is just a little bit different. The last thing I remember is a cutting sensation and me saying “I can feel that”. After that it was lights out and I woke up in recovery.

Thumbs are Half Off
That’s a bit of a sloppy title. I didn’t lose half my thumb. I lost a whole thumb or half of my total thumbs. And lost isn’t exactly the right word. My thumb is probably in a Ziploc bag in pathology right now. Maybe other people had finger amputations on the same day and pathology has assembled all of our digits into a full hand. Probably not much excitement in the Path lab so you have to make the fun where you can find it. Either way I’m now living a life with one hand and one paw. The paw is healing up nicely. The swelling is down, and as you might have guessed I can type again. Thankfully I can type just as well as I did before. Whoever decided to make the space bar so wide, God bless you.

Life With One Thumb
I wouldn’t say I’ve adapted yet. While logically I know my left thumb was amputated my mind hasn’t quite caught up with that fact. Yesterday I was clipping my fingernails. I clipped my pinky, ring finger, middle finger, pointer finger, and then I did something funny. I turned my hand to clip my thumb nail. Except of course there was no thumb there. It’s little things like that. Another one was when I felt something on the tip of my pointer finger. My subconscious instinctively moved my thumb to flick it off, then realizing it was still there it moved my thumb again. And at that point with the sensation still on my pointer finger, my subconscious knocked on the door of my brain to wake it up to assess the problem. Of course the problem was my thumb was amputated. There is nothing to move. Nothing that can flick. It’s just an odd sensation.

What Now?
Well now I’m on a bit of a cancer vacation. I feel well enough to be up and about but I’m still dealing with trauma and fatigue from the surgery. It’s an odd time where things feel normal enough that my reality could be that I’m just on vacation. Or a staycation as it was. That next week or the week after I’d rejoin the working class and shuffle around all those 1’s and 0’s that light up your computer screen. But this vacation ends differently. Going “back to work” will actually be daily radiation. Six weeks of radiation. Every weekday, excluding holidays. I don’t have to log my time thank god, but I do basically clock in and clock out. I meet with the Radiation Oncologist next Tuesday where I’ll find out more of a plan.

More Pets, Just Not a Dog
My sister in law and her family just brought home a new puppy, Ruby. And Ruby still has 2 siblings available for a discounted price of $1,200. It’s been suggested to me that we need another dog. And how cool it would be for Marlee (our min labradoodle) to have a brother or sister. But the thing is I already have multiple pets as in PET scans. That’s enough for me right now. You might recall that there was a lymph node in the first scan that was suspicious but not “bright” enough to cause concern. It could just be residual inflammation. Well my 2nd PET scan was very clear. This node that was barely visible on the first scan was shining nice and bright on the 2nd. And while they can’t say it’s cancerous for sure without a biopsy it seems that all signs point to it being so. Which means I want it out. I’ll see a surgeon next week before I see the Radiation Oncologist. Rumor has it he is one of those doctors that is great at medicine but might lack a few social skills. Either way, that’s much better than the converse.