December 2nd was my scheduled surgery. My Urologist was from USC Dr. Rosenberg. Dr. Rosenberg was great to work with and explained everything before the Surgery really well. He also really seemed to care and followed up after surgery quite a bit, checking up on us, and remaining in contact with Desiree.
The last three weeks of November I pretty much went to work and went home. I needed to pass a covid test as well as a wellness test in order to receive my surgery, and I was not trying to risk it. I really did feel like things were going to get worse if we stretched our time any further. I have no idea whether or not that was true, but in my head all I could think is I wanted this thing out of me before it began to spread.
Luckily everything went as according to plan. Surgery was right on schedule, and the mass was removed. To continue the positive momentum, coverage by my medical insurance kicked in December 1st. Up until this point we had been paying for everything out of pocket which definitely added up. The recovery time for this type of surgery was fairly quick, six weeks. Mentally going in I was very prepared and was very ready for this process to start.
I may have been what I thought was “Mentally Prepared” lol, but I was extremely naive. I had no idea what the recovery was going to be like, the soreness that would come, the antsiness of sitting still every day, and even though this was a less complicated surgery as others it was definitely a learning experience. I am extremely thankful for my lady, Desiree, she was such a strong driving force for my care and my mental support. My family always made sure they did anything they could do to help, and the friends that did know really came through for me. Some days I’d be stuck in my head just bummed the fuck out, but it always seemed like someone would hit me up or randomly visit. Those instances were what carried me through that recovery period.
Recovery time was supposed to be six weeks.
Due to a hematoma underneath my stitches the doctor had to reopen my surgery. This image is about 2/3 weeks after surgery. Seemed to be healing up nice at the time.
He squeezed out all the excess blood, and I would continue the healing process with no stitches. The cut was pretty deep and about four inches long. A very wild thing to look at for sure. Now my recovery time would take an extra two weeks. So I would not be cleared for activity until the second week of January. This was very strange for me considering I’ve had a job since I was 11, and been tattooing full-time for a decade and a half. I’m very grateful it was only for a month and a half, and that’s the truth. Having Des to rely on during my healing was a blessing, but letting my ego go and relying on Des to help me for simple things like using the restroom or showering was tough. I fucking hated the vulnerability. I felt extremely embarrassed, like a fuckin’ soldier though she didn’t even bay an eye. All the while she was there for it, even if I didn’t want to ask. MVP status.
