I was originally going to try my first baby run post-surgery today, but then the forecast came out with a high of 31°C (it got to 32) and I noped right out of that.
Instead, I walked to Burnaby Lake and back. In fact, I walked all the way to Piper Spit, which is about a 12 km round trip. I got my weekly 150 Intensity Minutes™ and even tried actual running for a minute or two, to see if I’d keel over or something.
I did not keel over. The part that felt the worst was my legs, actually. I didn’t stretch before, since I was walking, and my shins could feel it. Then my calf muscles. Then I stopped running.
The next day when the weather looks to be reasonable is Thursday but if it gets cooler before then (highs of 32 and 29 tomorrow and Wednesday) I will try sooner. In the meantime, I will continue to walk briskly.
At Burnaby Lake, there were a few bear signs by the dam, but none at the Piper Spit entrance or Nature House or anywhere else, so I am unsure if there are bears or if they’re just very localized.
Overall, it went pretty decently. I’m more out of shape than feeling the effects of surgery now, as nature intended.
A few photos:
Looking at Piper Spit from the viewing tower.Empire of lily pads.Duck family.Flowers in the butterfly garden.
The thing I notice after one month1Assuming you don’t count months that have 28, 29 or 31 days post-surgery is that I am going longer without thinking about my new scars, the still-lingering sensitivity of the surgery area or other stuff related to the surgery. I just do my usual, everyday routines. This is good. I even have 293 Intensity Minutes for the week. Intensity Minutes sounds very macho, but in my case, it’s just brisk walking.
I want to run tomorrow, but it’s supposed to get up to 30°C, which is pretty stupid hot, but we’ll see.
(Please see the previous post for your semi-daily cat image.)
I went birding today. It was fine. I have 22,000 steps as I type this and for most of the day the surgery area was a non-factor. It’s slightly itchy right now, and I’ll almost certainly need to sleep with the covers down due to its ongoing sensitivity, but it is what it is.
Still unsure if I’ll write these reports daily going forward, but here’s a pigeon preview from today’s birding. I’ll probably post the write-up and shots tomorrow as me tired.
But to be fair, the info I got on release from the hospital said 4–6 weeks for full recovery and in most ways that matter, I am now fully recovered.
What remains is the area of my chest where the surgery was done is still a bit sensitive to touch/sensation. The incisions are healing, though I’m closer now to fully healed/seeing what kind of cool scars I’ll end up with. I am mostly sleeping normally again, though I tend to keep the bedding off due to the aforementioned sensitivity.
I bought groceries today and didn’t calculate in my head how much everything weighed to make sure I wasn’t over the 10 pound (4.5 kg) limit.
I have 199 intensity minutes this week, all from my usual brisk walking pace. That’s nice.
I’m pretty much back to normal. I’m not always thinking about the surgery or its after-effects. I look forward to my first run (soon).
The daily reports may continue, or they may not. On the one hand, it keeps me posting. On the other, there’s little to report now, and maybe I could start posting more about other things as my mind turns to just living my life more or less normally again.
I had the appointment with the surgeon today. I journeyed to the hospital via SkyTrain, initially unaware that there was a World Cup game happening that afternoon downtown between Canada and Qatar. I say initially unaware because every station from Sapperton to Stadium was filled with people bedecked in red Canadian jerseys. Some people also had miniature Canadian flags, Canadian hats, capes and pretty much any kind of clothing or object you could wear and put a Canadian flag onto. I picked up on the fact that there just might be a game happening.
This didn’t actually impact my trip in any way, it was just interesting and a little weird to observe.
The security theatre downtown was impressive, especially when viewed from above on the SkyTrain. You’d never guess it was just a soccer (football) game.
Anyway, I arrived over an hour early and chose to have lunch at the Wendy’s that has stood at the corner of Cambie and Broadway since time immemorial. Seriously, I’ve lived here since 1986 and I don’t remember it ever not being there.
I ordered the Classic Chicken Combo. The chicken burger was hot, so either freshly cooked or freshly nuked. It was also juicy, so I’m guessing the former. I still had that issue I always have with their chicken burgers where the mayo and tomato combine to provide a slippery exit ramp for the patty and it starts squipping out of the bun. I finished the chicken, but not the bun. Gotta watch those carbs.
This Wendy’s also had one of those universal drink fountains where they give you a cup and then you select which of the thousand beverages you want, and you can mix them if that’s your thing. The last time I encountered such a device I gave up and asked for a drink at the counter because I could not figure it out. I don’t know if the machines have changed, or I have changed, but this time I:
Pressed the button for Coke Zero
Placed the cup on the circle
Pressed the button that said Press to Fill (or something like that)
And I got my Coke Zero and that was that.
After lunch, I finally made my way to the hospital building and upon arrival, the office assistant gave me a form and told me to go down to the third floor for an X-ray, which I did. I then returned and a short time later met with the surgeon. He grumbled about the IT system because he did not have the X-ray yet, though he should have. He said he would phone with the results when he eventually got them, good or bad, though he said he did not expect any issues.
He looked at my healing incisions and declared them fine. He gave his blessing to lift more than 10 pounds and to go running or otherwise resume normal activities.
Then he told me, in a sort of understated way, that I had cancer.
Had being the operative word.
Having read the pathology report, he gave me the findings:
The tumour (for it is now known as such) was 100% successfully removed and showed no signs of growth or spreading.
It was thymoma, a type of cancerous tumour that is “less aggressive”, initially shows no symptoms and is rare enough that only about 400 (the equivalent of maybe 45 Canadians) Americans get diagnosed with it every year.
I will have a CT scan (with no dye, yay) next May to make sure no new shenanigans are at play in my chest, as there is a non-zero chance of recurrence, though it is in the low percentage range.
The relevant quote from the Wikipedia article linked above is this:
One-third to one-half of all persons with thymoma have no symptoms at all, and the mass is identified on a chest X-ray or CT/CAT scan performed for an unrelated problem.
It turns out I was quite lucky to have a kidney infection that resulted in a CT scan back in January 2025. Thank you, malfunctioning kidney! (The kidney is better now.)
It would be very nice indeed if I had no more health issues for the rest of the year. Or ever again. I’ll even keep the seasonal allergies if needed.
For some reason I felt off yesterday. I was tired, maybe it was nothing more than that.
But then I slept surprisingly well. When I pull a shirt over my head today (to take it off, not because I have some “pulling shirts over my head” kink) I no longer do it slowly because the fabric feels weird going over my surgery zone. I can sneeze, and it only flares for a moment, and not much at that.
I can turn and stretch, and I don’t immediately get reminded I had surgery.
I’m healing. I am impatient, and I just want to be better, as I said yesterday, but I think there is an actual end in sight now.
Hopefully, the surgeon won’t tell me otherwise when I meet him in two days.
Here is a very nimble cat. I will be this cat soon.
Today I went birding and the temperature rose from 26C in the morning to 32C in the afternoon. We ventured on a long loop around Campbell Valley Regional Park.
Good: A lot of the park is forested and provides nice shade.
Bad: all the other parts where the sun beats down on you mercilessly.
I felt by the end of the afternoon I had maybe miscalculated how ready I was for something so taxing. I’m OK as I type this, but tired and aware that I probably won’t sleep great again tonight.
And I also realize that unless something starts changing significantly in my rate of recovery, I may not sleep great for weeks to come. I don’t sleep terribly, but I never really feel rested. Somewhat surprisingly, I also never feel like I’m dragging through the day as a result. Why, I don’t know. But today was the closest I’ve come to wanting to just lay down in a nice shady spot and stay there for a while.
I did get a few nice bird shots, though (coming soon).
In the meantime, here are some of the trees that provided welcome shade:
Trees along the Deer Trail in Campbell Valley Regional Park. No deer were seen.
Specifically, last night I found I could sleep OK if I laid on my back, with the covers pulled away from my chest, like if I was an Egyptian mummy, except not ancient, mummified and in a sarcophagus. On my side was still uncomfortable. The covers on my chest were uncomfortable. But on my back, like a mummy, was OK.
While my energy and general wellness continue to improve, sleep has been, by far, the most vexing part of my recovery. I don’t know if this is typical, abnormal or somewhere in-between. I suspect it’s pretty normal. After 22 days it’s also now pretty annoying.
At least in a few more days I should be able to roll onto the side that got cut up without risk of opening anything up.
I make this sound kind of terrible, but it’s not, it’s just what it is. I think writing about it helps me to manage the bother. Also knowing the surgery may have staved off something much worse down the line helps, too!
In the meantime, I took a walk to Sapperton Landing today to get some exercise in. I’m up to 103 intensity minutes for the week, woo. Next week I could theoretically hit the minimum, 150.
The weather was quite nice. Here are a few shots I took on my Galaxy S26.
Looking east across the Fraser River, Port Mann Bridge in the background.A plaque-free stone, plus an old boat with baby boats on the river behind it.A fish mosaic embedded in the ground, by J. McConnell.Enjoy the view while also feeling important.
Three weeks ago I would have been typing this from a hospital bed, pumped full of painkillers and oblivious of what was to come, existing in a weird daze, both aware and unaware, occasionally looking out the window to my left and noting the sky changing colour.
Today, 21 days later, I am feeling mostly normal.
Mostly.
The area of surgery is still sore, but every day now it feels…tighter. This is both good, because it means it’s healing, but also in a way bad because at certain points it’s made sleeping somewhat uncomfortable again.
The Big Stitch–the incision where the surgical instruments would have gone in–is starting to become noticeably less puffy, though it still feels weird. I could look up what it is I’m feeling (folded muscle, fat, etc.) on the internet, but those kinds of searches always seem to lead to a page saying IT’S PROBABLY BLACK DEATH. Plus, I see the surgeon in six days, I’ll just ask him then.
No cat again, instead this photo I took by the hospital lane way this afternoon:
Last night was an anomaly, my sleep was bad, due to stress, but not related to the surgery! And I think the watch made it sound worse than it was.
Regardless, yesterday was a slothful, stressful day and potato chips and pie were involved. The pie was yummy, though.
Today, I went for a long walk in pleasant late spring weather and as I type this mid-afternoon, I’m around 13.3 km total, which is already more than I’ve walked any day since going under the knife. And the more I walked, the less I felt the little aches and soreness from the surgery and incisions.
I begin to entertain the idea that I actually could try running in a week. We’ll see.
I also successfully stopped two sneezes by plugging my nose. Sneezing probably still hurts, so I’ll keep doing this.
In all, today is probably the first day that has a real whiff of normality to it. Things still aren’t normal, but it’s starting to feel tangible, possible. Yay for that.
No cat today. Instead, here’s a wild hydrant I saw on my walk:
