Waiting for the Other Shoe...

Well, the ovary removal was pretty smooth.  I have to tell you, laproscopic surgery is WAY easier than having your abdomen cut open.  I hardly had any pain from the incisions.  There were four tiny cuts on my stomach - one inside my belly button, two on either side of the belly button, and one along my previous c-section scar.  Not a problem at all.

As always, I had great difficulty waking up from the surgey.  I was really cranky this time and the recovery nurse was really irritating me.  Apparently my pulse-ox was low so they insisted I wear an oxygen mask - which was making my nose itch like crazy!  There was a pulse-ox monitor on my right pointer finger and every time I tried to scratch my nose I knocked it off.  Apparently I was falling back asleep with my finger still ON my nose which also meant I was knocking off the oxygen mask.  All of these actions really upset the nurse.  After fighting with me for awhile, she finally put the pulse-ox monitor on my toe and replaced the mask with a nasal tube.  I was finally free to scratch my nose at will!  Why didn't we do that sooner?

There was also a blood pressure cuff on my right arm, an IV in my hand, and those blow-up leg cuffs on my calves that are supposed to prevent blood clots.   I felt tied down and annoyed by all of the equipment and yet they were trying to wake me up to go home.  In my mind, I'm thinking, "If I still need oxygen and need to be monitored, why are you trying to wake me up and get me out of bed?"

Also, every time I sat up I got dizzy and then nauseous.  I wound up having the dry heaves which is a horrible and strange feeling.  I was puking - but nothing was coming out!  (Ugh.  Shuddering just to think about it.)  I finally cleared my head barely enough to put on some clothes and go home.  I had expected to spend the night in the hospital, so even though I felt rushed it was nice to go home.  When you can't remember the car ride home, do you think it means you should have slept a little longer?

As I said before, I had no pain from the incisions, but right before we left, I told the doctor I was having some pain in my shoulder.  It felt like I had a big air bubble in my chest.  He said not to worry that it was probably just a sore shoulder from lying on the operating table in one position for such a long time.  I knew that wasn't right but I was too doped up to pursue it further.  In the following days, the pain spread to both shoulders and became pretty intense - it was a stabbing pain.  I was afraid I was having a heart attack or something!

I vaguely remembered something about shoulder pain and laproscopic surgery so I Googled it in the middle of the night.  Sure enough, it is a prevelant side effect that no one bothered to mention to me.  You see, they pump up your abdomen with gas in order to create a better visual field for the cameras.  Turns out, the gas is cold and dry and irritates your diaphragm.  And there are nerves that run from your diaphragm into your shoulder - so it is a referential pain.  For some people, the shoulder pain is worse than the incisions and that was certainly true for me!  I couldn't take a deep breath because the pain was too intense.  It left me feeling short of breath and a little scared.  I wish someone had warned me.  Fortunately it only lasted 2 days

Everything else has healed just fine.  And here is the strangest part of all - NO HOT FLASHES!  It has been three weeks since the surgery and I'm not having any hot flashes!  How is this possible?  I experienced extreme hot flashes and night sweats during chemo, but a few months after the chemo stopped, they went away.  I assumed my ovaries had started back up and everything was functioning normally again.  I couldn't tell for sure since I don't have a utereus and therefore no periods.  But maybe I was wrong - maybe the ovaries were dead and I just had an easy run of the menopausal symptoms????

I was in such dread of those night sweats again.  Is it possible that I'm going to escape that torture?  I definitely felt weepy a few days, my sleep has been disturbed, and I know I am a irritable.  If I can escape the hot flashes and night sweats, I will be forever grateful.

The surgery was easy, and I feel mostly recovered.  But I'm sitting here anxiously  - waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Hot Flash On The Horizon

Tomorrow morning I part with my ovaries.  I really don't want to do this, but I sure as hell don't want ovarian cancer either. 

I like my hormones.  I got a small taste of life without them during "chemopause" and I didn't like it.  It's true that the hormones would be leaving me in the next couple of years anyway, but I would have preferred a gentle slide into menopause versus a hard smack in the face.  I'm one of those people that likes to slowly work my way into a cold swimming pool instead of diving in head first.  Tomorrow's surgery will be a big dive.

I'm not worried about the actual surgery.  In fact, it's kind of funny how non-chalant I feel about the procedure.  This is surgery number 4 in the period of 18 months; I'm an old hand at this now.  I've had a c-section and my uterus removed years ago so I know what to exect as far as pain goes.  This surgery is laproscopic so it shouldn't be nearly as bad.  But life without estrogen.... that's another thing all together.

I suppose I shall survive this too.

I was visiting Atlanta a few weeks back and a group of friends and I were walking in the downtown area afer dinner one night.  There were many homeless people in the streets and there were people sleeping on the sidewalk.  Little Rock has its share of homeless people but we have enough "green space" around that they seem to stay more hidden.  I don't have a great deal of exposure to the homeless.  Seeing a grown man sleeping on the sidewalk broke my heart.  So really - what do I have to complain about?  Losing my ovaries won't be all fun but at least I have a home, a job, plenty to eat, and friends and family that love me.

Well, let the hot flashes begin.

Milestone

Wow - I just realized that I have passed the one year mark of chemotherapy.  My last chemo was September 2, 2008.  Can it really be a whole year?

Can it really be a whole year?

It doesn't feel as if it was that long ago.  The feeling is still fresh in my mind and I'm still struggling to grow hair!  I guess it has taken me awhile to truly recover.  Plus - I've had two surgeries during the last year.  One more surgery to go....  but I just wanted to acknowledge how far I've come.

Whew.  I'm glad the chemo part is all behind me.  What a drag.  Remember my chemo mantra borrowed from Muhamed Ali? 

"Suffer now and live the rest of your life like a champion."

Well,  I'm feeling like a champion tonight!

No News Is Good News!

Well, I haven't posted here in awhile because.... there isn't much to report! Also, I am busier than a one-legged man at an ass kicking!

I am adjusting to the foobs and the way they feel. I have some minor tenderness still, but nothing to limit my activities. I am even sleeping on my stomach - something I thought I would never do again! The foobs feel very strange when I'm floating in water and sometimes the muscles contract weirdly when I am using my arms. I don't really know how to explain what I mean - mostly it's that I can feel the wave of the contraction move up and over the mound of my breast. Freaky! I am very pleased with the final outcome and am beginning to believe that one day they will actually feel normal to me. Each day I notice them less. I have one last follow-up appointment with the plastic surgeon and then I will be released from his care.

Since the exchange surgery, I have been having some memory issues. I'm having trouble recalling words sometimes and one day I couldn't remember the name of my favorite restaurant. I have trouble recalling recent activities and do that thing where I walk into a room and can't remember what I came to do. I miss a lot of turns while driving. I know all of you will say you do the same things, but this isn't your everyday forgetfulness... it's different. It is a deeper blankness than I've ever felt before. I simply can not remember. I'm not sure if it's due to all the anesthesia or a delayed chemo side effect. Lots of people talk about "chemo brain" and say that it can develop well after the treatments are done. There is even research now that validates the phenomena. I wouldn't say I am impaired - but I definitely feel the difference.

The oophorectomy (ovary removal) is still hanging over my head. I am dragging my feet and dreading the menopausal symptoms that will accompany it. I experienced "chemopause" during the chemo treatments and had severe hot flashes. I felt out of control and claustrophobic in my own body. It's those drenching sweats in the middle of the night that are most disturbing. I don't get it - why does my body overheat more so when I'm lying down than when I'm up and moving around? Sigh. I need to schedule an appointment and get it done.

The rest of life is busy. We went on a trip to Destin, Florida this summer and had a nice time. I got sun burnt trying to make up for the loss of all sun last summer! But in truth, it felt good. It made me feel alive and healthy and the opposite of a cancer patient.

Eli is back in school and we are reluctantly letting go of our summer hours and embracing the school schedule. And I am taking a class at UALR! It is fun and strange, all at the same time, to be back on a college campus. I am also chairing an event to celebrate the 50th anniversary of our sailing club which is consuming a great deal of my time at the moment. It feels good to be doing more things.

In light of all the health care debate, I am once again reminded of how lucky I am to have such good medical care available to me. Not only am I alive and healthy, but I was able to receive some damn good plastic surgery that makes me look and feel normal. What a gift for me!

Now that the majority of my "crisis" is over, I feel less compelled to post here. So if you don't see anything for awhile rest assured - no news is goods news!

Second Chances

If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it.
-Unknown

Softer Foobs!

The exchange is done and I have softer foobs! I didn’t feel immediate relief from those rock-hard expanders, but now that the swelling and tenderness is down, I can really feel a difference. Ahhhhh…. It feels so nice. It’s like taking off a pair of tight shoes at the end of a long day. Relief.

The hours leading up to my surgery were a little hectic. We left Eli at my mom’s house Sunday night as we had to be at the hospital at 5:45 a.m. Monday morning. Around midnight Eli called home crying in pain. He had a terrible ear ache - the result of swimming in lake water for a whole week at camp. Ben got dressed and took the poor boy some medicine and a pain killer to help him sleep. No sooner than Ben got home, his beeper started going off. Turns out he was on call that night. Two more pages came through meaning there was very little sleep between the hours of midnight and 5:00 a.m. Lucky for me (I guess you call it lucky), I got to be sedated and take a looong nap. Poor Ben had to struggle through the next 10 hours or so with heavy eyes.

The surgery was smooth with no problems. I had a little nausea when I woke up, but not too bad. For whatever reason, I had a harder time waking up from the anesthesia. I kept asking the same questions over and over again. As soon as I would ask the question, I knew I was repeating myself. None the less - I could not remember any of the answers! It was an odd feeling. (I wonder if that’s what it’s like to have Alzheimer’s disease??) Anyway, Ben and the nurse were trying to get me to sit up and put on my clothes yet I could barely open my eyes. I really felt like they were rushing me, but they both felt it was time for me to go! At one point, they pulled the pretty blue curtains all the way around my bed so I could get dressed in privacy. I got wildly dizzy and felt like I was swimming in a sea of blue! There was nothing specific for me to focus on and I really couldn’t tell which way was up! My whole upper body swirled around in circles searching for the center of my gravity. They had to open the curtains and let me sit for a few more minutes in order to get my bearings.

They wheeled me to the car with one eye open and gently shoved me in. I’m sure my head bopped all over the place during the car ride home because I couldn’t stay awake more than 2 minutes at a time! I slept comfortably on the couch the rest of the day and even slept there through the night. I was comfortable, so why move?

I can’t really remember the beginning of Tuesday morning, but as the day wore on, I became very aware of my fever - 101.5 to be exact. The pain in my breasts was mild, but the fever made me feel awful. It was reminiscent of chemo days - blah! My discharge instructions said to call if I had fever over 101, but I was reluctant. I had the same fever after my mastectomy and it left after 24 hours. I was pretty sure this fever was my body’s reaction to the trauma of surgery and not a sign of infection. I was afraid if I called the doctor, he would needlessly admit me to the hospital for iv antibiotics – and I certainly didn’t want to go there! Sure enough, around 5:00 a.m. Wednesday morning, the fever broke. It was a miserable 24 hours but I’m glad I waited it out.

Thursday morning I saw the doctor and got to take the bandages off. There was a slight problem with my incisions. They were inflamed and the skin around them was blistered. Turns out, I am officially allergic to Derma Bond – the glue they use on your skin during surgery. The doctor said in his 8 years of using Derma Bond in almost every surgery, I am only the 3^rd person to exhibit an allergy! They had to peel the Derma Bond off my skin (think of peeling off super glue stuck to your skin) which left some raw areas on my breast (no problem – I can’t feel). I am having to change the bandages every day and put an antibiotic gauze (Xeroform) over the blistered areas. They are already looking much better and I anticipate they will heal without additional scarring.

I went back to work this past Monday. Too sore to feel great – not sore enough to sit at home. I am fine; I just tire quickly. I took a 2 hour nap after work yesterday and still slept 8 hours that night! It takes a lot of energy to heal.

So how do I feel about my softer foobs? It’s hard to say. Yes – they feel MUCH softer and easier to tolerate. They are very even in size and shape, but one nipple is lower than the other and that kinda bothers me. And there is a bit of a dimple on the outside of the left breast. They are nice but…. well, they just aren’t what mother nature gave me and I’m not used to them yet. When I look in the mirror I don’t recognize my body. Over time, I will probably grow more comfortable with them. Right now, we are still getting to know one another. I had just grown accustomed to their overly perky profile. Now my eyes need to adjust to this more natural shape.

Like most humans, I don’t embrace change very easily. I like to think of myself as an easy-going, flexible individual. Truth is, I have a hard time dealing with most change. In fact, I am probably too complacent with the status quo and linger in places way beyond my time to be there. I think it is the Tao Te Ching that says, “Cling to nothing for nothing is constant.”

Guess the foobs are giving me a chance to work on that ;)

The Exchange

The exchange date has been set for June 22. On that date, the surgeon will remove the tissue expanders from my breasts and put in nice, soft implants. He will go through the same incisions from the first surgery and I don’t anticipate much pain. It is an out-patient procedure and I am expected to go home the same afternoon. I am sooooo ready… but it is still 7 weeks away.

Afer writing my last cranky post, I decided that part of the reason I was so uncomfortable is that I had over-expanded my breasts. The surgeon had been reluctant to add the last expansion injection, but I pressed him. Turns out he was right; I went too far. I could feel my breasts under my arms and I was beginning to have compromised chest strength. I went back to the surgeon and had him withdraw some saline and I immediately felt better. I am much more comfortable now. I even raced a sailboat this past weekend and my chest didn’t hinder or bother me.

Isn’t it funny that I can add or subtract saline until I find the size that’s right for me? Wouldn’t it be fun if I could change them on a daily basis based on my mood? Double D for a trip to the beach or maybe a small A cup for a dainty camisole… it’s an amusing idea to ponder.

Missing Parts

I miss my breasts.

There, I said it.

Don’t get me wrong, the reconstruction is going just fine and things look good. I have great doctors, I am happy and have no regrets about my decision. You might even call the perkiness of my new breasts an improvement over the old. Yet, they are very round-looking and they will never look like what mother-nature gave me.

I try to keep a good attitude about my Foobs (Fake Boobs), but the adjustment to this new body is hard. I know things will get somewhat better after we get rid of the expanders, but the truth is I miss my old body. Having the expanders is kinda like wearing a coconut shell bra UNDER your skin. On second thought – it is EXACTLY like that.

The foobs don’t move or bounce or jiggle. They are Barbie boobs. When I lie on my side, I’m used to my breasts draping towards the bed. Now they stick straight out like a metal Viking bra! The foobs get in the way of my arms sometimes and I still haven’t found the best position for sleep. It’s all very weird and uncomfortable.

I am including a picture of the expanders that are in my breasts. You can see the oval plastic collar and the metal ring. Think about having that under you skin! Again – I know the permanent implants will be softer, but I can’t see that it will be a drastic difference. I am truly, truly thankful and glad to have foobs versus no boobs, but I really, really miss my squishy, jiggly, movable breasts. A lot.

I miss my hair. The short hair makes me feel old and matronly and I have come to the realization that it will be another year before it has any length. Everyone said it would come back thicker than it was before, but so far, that is far from the truth. Sigh. The hair is very thin and I can still see lots of my scalp. I feel like Miss Jane from the Beverly Hillbillies! I have even taken to wearing hats again. Please, I loved my thick hair more than anything and I want it back – curly or straight, I don’t care. Just don’t leave me with a half bald head.

Come to think of it, the two things I have always liked best about my personal appearance were my breasts and my hair. Now they both have changed in a major way.

I am tired of being the cancer patient now and I want to get back to normal. The problem is, I can never get back to the person I was before the cancer. The sooner I let go of that idea, the better off I will be. So what is normal for me now? As you can see, I am having an internal struggle with the external presentation - among other things. So, if I see you, I will smile and tell you I am feeling much better these days (and I really am). I will tell you that I’m thrilled with the reconstruction (and I really am). But just know that there is still a part of me working to convince myself that I am happy with this new normal.

You may have heard the saying, “Going through the motions changes the emotions.”

Well... I’m going.

I Am Not My Hair

Let the battle begin! No - I'm not talking about a battle with cancer. I'm talking about the battle with my hair! I am finally beginning to get a good bit of hair on my head and it is wild. It is definitely curly and has a mind of it's own. It sticks out every which way it chooses and no gel or mousse can control it. I have bedhead extraordinaire!

I have pretty much given up hats and scarves, though I have to admit I feel kinda naked without them. I still wear them sometimes because my head gets cold and because I think I look strange with short hair. It's funny - but people are having trouble recognizing me! They are used to the hats and scarves and seeing me with short hair is a whole different look. You'd think after six months I'd have more hair than I do! That's right - it's been six months since my last chemo! It's gonna take awhile to get some length - and I wonder if it will ever be as long as it was before chemo. I don't recognize that lady in my mirror either.

But it is hair.... and it is progress.... and it will keep growing :)

The expansion process is going smoothly and I think I am done with injections. (It's kinda weird trying to decide how big you want your boobs to be...) I am pleased with the results thus far and it looks like the exchange surgery will be in late May or early June. They still feel very foreign on my chest but I assume they will eventually become a part of me. I am missing the way hugs used to feel. It now feels as if there is a pillow or something between me and the other person and I keep thinking I want to pull them closer. I hate that. Remind me that it is a small price to pay in order to have any hugs at all.

I forgot to mention that the feeling in my fingers has finally returned (thank-goodness!) but the toes are still numb. At my six-month check-up, the doctor said it could take up to a year for the toes to get better. I am used to it now and it doesn't bother me so much (hopefully the same will be true of the boobs someday) but I do wish they would re-gain feeling. Isn't it amazing, that six months later, I am still feeling side effects from those damn chemo drugs?

Ahhh... but it is springtime. The sun is shining and the flowers are blooming. I put the top down yesterday and took a long drive out to the lake and soaked up as much vitamin D as I could. There is nothing like a good dose of sunshine to brighten my mood. I may be numb in several places, but I can still feel the sun and the wind on my face.

And it is glorious.



BTW - The title of this blog post, "I Am Not My Hair," is the title of a great song by India Arie. If you have a minute, check out this song and it's lyrics on Youtube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZH6lKxA_q0

Cancerversary

Yesterday was my "Cancerversary." One year ago the doctor called to say the biopsy from my breast was positive for invasive ductal carcinoma. Upon hearing the news my husband said, “I’m sorry.” I replied, “Don’t say you’re sorry. Just say we’ll fix it.” In my head I was thinking a small surgery to remove the tumor… maybe a little radiation therapy. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine 6 rounds of chemo and a double mastectomy were in my future.

Wow - I can’t believe it's been a whole year! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my family during this time. Your help and your words of encouragement mean more than you will ever know.

It has been a long journey and it isn’t over yet. I’ve learned a lot of things and accomplished many milestones. When I think back over the last year, there were some pretty bad days. I find that I am much stronger in many ways, more vulnerable in others.

It is difficult to process the journey of cancer and what it means for my life. Who am I now that I have survived cancer? What am I here for? What brings me joy? What is most important in my life? I've been granted this time; what do I use it for?

Those answers will come; I know they will. For now - I'm just glad to be here.

Here They Come Into The Stretch!

I love the horse races! And on President’s Day, I had good reason. I went to the races with my husband and some friends and walked away a pretty big winner. I bet on every race, ate and drank all day, and still walked away with $75 MORE in my pocket than when I began. Not bad, eh? I even hit a trifecta bet – that’s where you pick the first, second and third place horses all in the correct order! All in all, I cashed in 7 winning tickets! That’s what you call a phenomenal day at the track! We also got to see Old Fashioned (see photo) win the Southwest Stakes. That means he is now the leading favorite to win the Kentucky Derby – and who knows, maybe even the Triple Crown.

I wish I could say I won because of my genius ability to read the race form and calculate all the odds. I do know how to read the form and interpret some of the data – but let’s be honest – there’s an awful lot of luck involved! One time I bet and won money on a horse simply because I liked her name – Tricky Jo.

It occurs to me that treatment for cancer is a little like the horse races. You do the research, you weigh all the factors, you consider the odds, and then you choose the treatments that are best for you. I think I have done well in that department. I looked at all the options and made the wisest choices in my cancer treatment. I think I have done everything possible to eradicate the disease. But in the end, it still requires a little bit of luck. Did we get every cancer cell that was floating around my body? I sure hope luck is with me.

My mastectomy recovery is still going well, albeit a bit tiresome. Indeed, the first expansion rounded things out a bit and the second expansion is set for later this week. I have to say, these lumps on the front of my chest may look like boobs but they do not feel like boobs nor do they feel like a part of my body. It feels as if someone strapped two tin cans to the front of my chest with tight elastic straps and some days I am simply ready to take them off. Everyone swears the permanent implants will feel much softer and I sure hope they are right. I guess I need to adjust and set my own heart straight. These lumps will be with me until the end of May or the beginning of June. I still have a ways to go.

One of the best parts of the horse races is when you hear the announcer say, “And here they come into the stretch!” It means the horses are nearing the finish line. The tension builds and everyone jumps to their feet with excitement. Can the leader hang on? Who’s that coming up on the outside? People screaming, “Go horse! Go!” And then in a blink… it’s over.

I can’t wait for the day when I can say, “And here she comes into the final stretch of her cancer treatment.” It won’t be too much longer, but there are a few more months and a few more surgeries to go. And then in a blink – it will all be over.

Isn't it funny how I can turn even a fun day at the races into a cancer analogy? Ah well... this too shall one day pass:)

Mark Twain

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. "

Mark Twain (1835-1910)

Just Call Me Skipper!

I'm not crazy - she did exist! Growing Up Skipper was released in 1975. Turn her left arm backwards and she grows a modest bust line, slimmer waist and becomes 3/4" taller! Turning the arm back again reverts her to the previous shape. Here she is in all her glory:

And just so you can see that I'm not making this up, here are photos of Skipper's "expansion:"

I wish my breast expansion was as easy as turning my arm around. And I wish a slimmer waist and a bit of height came along with the whole package!

What a crazy world we live in. Just call me Skipper!

Blow Up Doll

I am now officially a blow up doll! I had my first expansion injection on Thursday. What a strange experience!

The doctor uses a magnet to find the metal port in the breast expander and marks its location on my skin with a a sharpie pen. Didn't you think it would be something more high tech than a magnet and a sharpie? Next he inserts a needle into the port and begins to inject saline into the expander. Since I don't have any feeling in my breasts, the needle doesn't hurt. The saline, however, feels quite strange. It's kinda hard to explain, really.... I guess you would call it tightness and pressure. Certainly not a feeling I've had before. He injected 50 cc into each breast.

I felt a little tender and sore later that afternoon, but nothing too severe. I did take a sleeping pill that night and it worked like a charm. I have been sleeping on the couch since my surgery because I am still uncomfortable lying down. I have developed a nest of pillows that allows me to sleep propped up. It seems like the couch would be an uncomfortable place to sleep, but it's not for me.

The doctor says I will probably have 3 more injections spaced out at every two weeks. Once we reach the size we want, we will sit for two months before the exchange surgery. Two months! I didn't realize it was quite so long. What a strange process this is!

I have been having these "memories" about a doll that grows boobs. You twist her arm over her head and her boobs pop out. Twist it back and the boobs go away. Did I make this up in my imagination or was it real? I tried a google search but didn't come up with anything. Did I dream this? Maybe I just have a vivid imagination! If anybody remembers such a thing, please let me know. I feel kinda like one of those dolls.

So.... one injection down and three more to go!

Cancer Bloggers

I cannot begin to tell you how much this blog has meant to my recovery process. It has been such a great outlet for my anxiety and a wonderful way to keep in touch with family and friends. In fact, I have discovered a whole community of cancer bloggers on the net. Every time I have a new concern or face a new procedure, I search for the words of those who have walked before me. Their first-hand accounts are often more helpful (and more informative!) than any doctor’s explanation. Not to mention the fact that they are available 24/7 and I can access them in my own time from my own home. It is a virtual support group.

I have posted links in my sidebar to a few of the cancer blogs that I read regularly. If you have found your way here because you are facing cancer yourself, I encourage you to use the side bar as a starting point to connect with others. You’ll be glad you did.

Surgery Update:
My own recovery is still going well. The heat rash that is under both breasts and halfway down to my stomach is finally abating. The itching was driving me NUTS and I was worried that it was going to get into my incisions and therefore into my expanders. THAT would not be good! I have to say, my pain is still very prevalent. How do I describe it? Feels like they cut a hole in my chest wall, shoved a large rock inside, and then sewed it back up. Oh wait – that’s exactly what they did! The pain isn’t intense or unbearable in any way… it’s just every present. I feel okay, but I’m at that point right now where I’m tired of being sore and beginning to wonder if my body will ever feel well again. A little more time…. Just need a little more time.

I was planning to go to work for a few hours this week, but there is freezing rain outside tonight so I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere. Wish it would be a pretty snowfall, but it looks like it will be crippling ice. Keep your fingers crossed that we don’t lose power!

Eli

My most tender spot in this whole cancer process has been my son, Eli. I cannot bear to think of my sweet boy losing his mother. I think losing your mother at an early age is one of the worst things that can happen to a person and I would never want to fail Eli in that way. I may not be the absolute best mother in the world , but I am a pretty good one… and I am his.

The day before my surgery, I took him to my mom’s house to spend the night. When it came time for me to leave, we hugged and he began to cry – it’s the first time he has shown such emotion about my illness. I had been strong all day but when Eli started to cry and say he was scared of losing me – I started to cry too. I can’t stand the idea of him being frightened or hurt. I wish I had been a little stronger as I’m sure my own tears were not very assuring to him. But we both pulled it together and I assured him that I would be okay. We would get through this surgery just like we had gotten through everything else. Whoa – that was a tough moment. I cried all the way home.

I have tried to keep Eli’s teacher at school informed of my progress. I figure it helps if she knows about any stresses we are experiencing. She acknowledged that Eli worries about me and took a simple action to help him with his anxiety. A day or two after I returned home from the hospital, she asked each of his classmates to make a get well card for me! It was a wonderful way to help Eli to deal with his anxiety and get a little support from his friends. Bringing home the cards really helped him feel like he was contributing to my recovery. This project was a fabulous gesture by his teacher; some adults just get it. Here they all are:



The cards were adorable and a real treat. Here are a few of my favorites:

What fun! Thank you to Eli, his teacher, Ms. Smith, and all of his classmates. The cards made me feel great!

Free At Last!

I was able to get my drains removed on Friday! You don't know how wonderful it feels to be free of those juice boxes on steroids. My sister had cute little drains the size of Easter eggs, but not me. Take a look at how big those things were; and remember I had one on each side. I threw in the juice pack for a size reference. If a little bit of blood makes you queasy, you might want to skip this post:

I feel like a new woman without them. Moving is easier and sleeping is much more comfortable. Hurray for progress!

Comcast Cable Sucks!

It seems every time I am sick and stay home for the day, the fricking cable goes out and it takes two days to get a repairman to the house. Why must I have such a sympathetic cable box that goes down when I am down? ARGHHHHHH! I just want to watch some stupid tv and I can’t!

Okay, okay…. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me that I need to do something else. Guess I’ll dive into The Shack – a novel given to me by a colleague for my recovery period. Maybe some great inspiration or introspection awaits me there.

Okay, letting go of my anger and opening myself up to the discoveries the universe has to offer today. Report back later.

Notes On Healing

I would say the healing process is going well so far. I am quite sore and have a very limited range of motion, but I feel good. The drains are a real pain and they are WAY bigger than anything I ever expected; think juice box on steroids. I’m not exaggerating! The doctor was optimistic that the drains will be removed on Thursday when I see him; I sure hope he’s right.

Sitting up from a reclining position is one of the most difficult movements for me. At one point, I found myself lying flat on my back and could not get up! I laid there with my arms and legs up in the air wiggling like a dying cockroach until Ben helped me up! Geez! It goes without saying that I am much more comfortable sitting upright than reclining or lying down. This fact makes sleeping a bit difficult. I can only sleep an hour or so at a time without having to painfully sit up and readjust my body. But it’s okay because I don’t have to be anywhere nor does anybody expect anything of me right now:) I can nap as often as I need.

I slept in late this morning and then my mother-in-law came by and helped me to take a bath. I haven't had anyone help me with a bath since I was a child, but it’s hard to bath by yourself when you have drains on steroids! Plus, I can’t reach all areas of my body due to my limited range of motion. My mother-in-law is a retired nurse so she was good at helping me with this task. It felt great to wash all the hospital gunk off my body and get a fresh start.

After getting clean, I ate a little lunch and took all of my meds. Unfortunately, I went a little overboard and took too many pills at one time. I took 2 antibiotics, 3 vitamins and a pain pill. I should know better. (Shaking head.) About 15 minutes later I lost all of my lunch. Eeowww… it is NOT fun to throw up when you have a tender, sore chest. (Note to self – DO NOT DO THIS AGAIN!!) It took me a couple of hours to recover from this little mishap, but rest assured I will not repeat that mistake. I may lay off the vitamins until the antibiotics are complete. Eck!

And I have to say, the breasts look way better than I imagined they would at this stage. As I stated previously, I can see the potential for good things to happen and I am very thankful I have such great doctors. I think I wasted a lot of energy worrying about the cosmetic outcome. I still have a long way to go, and there is still a possibility of complications, but I am feeling very optimistic about the final result. It’s gonna be okay.

Yep, it's all gonna be okay.

Brief Update

Super quick update…. The surgery went smoothly! There were no complications and I didn’t have an ounce of nausea in recovery. The first 24 hours were pretty painful but it has leveled out now and I’m tolerating the pain okay. I wound up staying two nights at the hospital instead of one – mostly because I needed the morphine for pain management. I also spiked a fever of 102 which had everyone worried for awhile, but it seems it was just my body’s reaction to the trauma it experienced.

The breast mounds look pretty weird and uneven, but the nipples look great. My skin has good capillary refill which is a good sign that the skin is going to survive. I can see the potential for a decent set of ta-tas once we start blowing them up with saline.

That’s all the news for now! I’m glad to be home and to have the worst part behind me! I'll post more later.

So Long Ole Gals!

To my breasts:

So long ole gals. I was a skinny, gangly teenager when you first appeared - practically overnight. In the beginning, I may have been shy and embarassed by the attention boys gave to you, but later I enjoyed going braless and teasing boys with the possibility of a caress. You seldom failed at getting attention. In more recent years, I was so happy you provided nurishment for my infant son and I will never forget the contented look on his face when he fell asleep nursing. Yes, you have provided me with some great years, but it is time for you to go. I will miss you terribly and I hope your new "sisters" will provide another set of fond memories.

5:45 a.m. and I will be at the hospital ready to go. Surgery is at 7:15 and I will slide into recovery around 3:00 p.m.

Lots of dear angels out there have been asking me how they can help during my recovery. I have a hard time knowing what I might need, but I finally came up with a couple of ideas. First, for those of you who live in Little Rock, I would love it if you would bring me lunch one day. I’ll be stuck here at the house for a few weeks and I would love to share a quick meal with you. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy – just a sandwich or something small. If you can sneak away on your lunch hour one day, give me a call and see if I'm up for company.

For those of you far away, I would love it if you would post a comment and recommend a funny movie for me to watch during my days off. You know what they say about laughter being the best medicine. Also, a good belly laugh is supposed to get your heart rate up and that will help with blood flow to the skin on my newly formed breasts. I like all kinds of silly movies, new and old, so tell me about a few that tickle your funny bone.

Thanks for all the good wishes. They make me feel great. As always, I'll talk to ya'll on the other side of this mess. Think happy thoughts!

Counting Down

Only one more day before the big surgery. I am a bundle of anxiety. I have had too long to think about this surgery; I’m just ready to get it over!

I met with the breast surgeon one last time – not the plastic surgeon – but the oncology surgeon that performs the actually mastectomy. Yes – I have two doctors for this surgery. The oncology surgeon removes all the breast tissue and the plastic surgeon takes over to perform the reconstruction part.

I am using a different oncology surgeon than the one that performed my lumpectomy. I have chosen Dr. Susan Klimberg because she is the only surgeon in town (that I can find) that performs a nipple sparing mastectomy. If you are uncomfortable reading about my nipples – then please skip the next paragraph!

I have chosen to have a nipple sparing mastectomy. This means they will leave my nipples in place. They won’t have any sensation, but I think it will make me feel more natural when all is said and done. There are risks, however. Sometimes, the surgeon can remove just a little too much tissue and the blood flow to the nipple is compromised. If the blood flow is compromised, the nipple could die and then it would have to be removed. That would mean another surgery- yikes! And because I’ve had a lumpectomy and there is a nice scar across my chest, there is a chance that blood flow to my left nipple is already compromised. So it is a little risky for me. But Dr. Klimberg says you can’t hit a home run if you don’t step up to the plate, so I am willing to take the risk.

I have started a course of 3 different antibiotics and a regimen of vitamins prescribed by the doctor. She wants me to take 10,000 iu of A, 1,000 iu of C, and 220 iu of zinc – That’s a butt load of zinc!!! Wish I had started the vitamins earlier, but at least I’ve got them now. Infection is probably my worst enemy in this whole process. NO INFECTION ALLOWED!

I asked the doctor if I would be ready to go back to work in two weeks since I have a desk job. She smiled and shook her head. “No darling, don’t you dare go back to work after two weeks.” You give yourself a month off.” So we shall see… Four weeks seems like such a long time.

I wish I could just skip tomorrow and go straight to surgery. The anxiety is kinda wearing me out. But I have a busy day at work and it will be a decent distraction.

Keep sending those good thoughts and prayers.