Luv

Nov 30, 2014

When I found The Lump that fateful Saturday, you confirmed I wasn't imagining things.

When I came home crying from the doctor, now needing a mammogram and ultrasound, you gave me a hug with one arm and held a beer for me in the other.




When I cried all the way home after the mammogram because I now needed a biopsy, you held my hand as you drove, quietly murmuring words of encouragement.

When I went for my biopsy you were the last person to squeeze my hand as I walked through the clinic doors and the first face I saw when I came out, with a smile and a hug.

When I layed in bed shaking with terror the next few  nights, you held me tight till the shaking stopped, often a few hours before getting up for work.

When I got the call to see the doc for the results, you were my rock as we walked into the room to find out my fate. 

When the words "...it's not good news" were spoken, your white face reflected the fear in my heart.

When she finished with "...it's breast canser..." I saw  your heart break as you cried like it was your own diagnosis.

With every test that followed in the next 4 weeks, it was with you by my side that I faced each - mostly scary - test or procedure.




With each chemo appointment, it was you who celebrated every small victory, comforted me through every dark moment and took care of every detail in between (from paperwork to housework to puke buckets (just incase) to learning to do ponytails in Emmy's hair and beyond...)

You've cooked me - and eaten - everything from chickpeas to smoothies that look like sludge without me even asking.

You sat either with me or waiting for me at the hospital 3 (long) days in a row - always with a smile and a twinkle in your eye.

I worried I'd be repulsive as they removed the bandages after my mastectomy but the first words out of your mouth were "it's slimming!". 

In the last seven months we've camped, went to Big Valley Jamboree, completed our first 5k - always together - because of your encouragement and support to not let canser stop us from living.

There have been highs and lows, tears, smiles and always laughter. 

But not once have I had to face anything alone.

You are a huge part of my team who has worked tirelessly to save my life, and I will never forget it.

You have taught me what unconditional love is with every word, gesture and act.




So on your 33rd birthday, I wish you a happy birthday, while raising my glass - and my hat - to the person who firmly grabbed my hand in the face of a terrifying tsunami life moment and has never let go.

Quite simply, thank you Luvy. I love you.

Happy Birthday xoxox

I'm going to love you through it - Martina McBride (you tube)

The Aftermath

Nov 4, 2014

It's been hard. The infection really threw me for a loop and seemed to open Pandora's box. Until the infection, I was doing OK. Holding it together. Embracing my new body. I was focused on healing but also didn't feel the need to cry about anything.

Then I woke up with that huge, angry, red patch and my anxiety went through the roof, and the flood gates opened.

Since that day, I look in the mirror and all I see is the hair that's gone, (and the colour that's gone too), the nails that are damaged from chemo (and may fall off), the frankenstein looking incisions, no eyebrows, little eyelashes and skin that seems to be sloughing off from dryness. I'm still me inside but my outside is so devastatingly damaged in my eyes that it's hard to look in the mirror and not cry. I'm still me but how can anyone possibly see that? They say beauty is only skin deep. I guess I'm about to put that to the test.

And it terrifies me.

Cause I feel like I'm about to put my personality on trial. Like that's all I have to offer.

And what if it isn't enough?

I guess that's the big question. And don't think I thought so highly of myself to think I was some super hot little thing to look at before - I'm 36 with two kids so my body had gone through lots of change. But what if there were parts of me that are now significantly altered - and not just my breasts - that enhanced my personality, that aren't there anymore?

So I've spent alot of time crying when I'm alone. That seems to be when I'm overwhelmed with...self pity maybe? I feel like I've been stripped of every physical attribute that made me me.

I called my friend Janis in one of my dark moments. Before surgery she told me "when you have one of 'those days' after surgery, call me". After listening to me for a few mintues, she said "oh you're in The Aftermath. Totally normal. You'll be ok." She actually made me feel momentarily better. It wasn't just me. This was normal.

So where do I go from here?

Hmmmm....shopping. I foresee a shopping spree in my future. And a girls night. And an End-Of-Surgery-canser-took-my-breasts-but-can-Kiss-My-Ass party.

But definately shopping. (sorry Phil I think it's gonna be an expensive therapy session !!)

"What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step." - C.S Lewis

Nov 3, 2014

Exactly one week after surgery, my left (non-canser) drain was ready to come out. My right side wasn't quite ready yet, but that Thursday was tough cause I was just so sick of the house and wearing button up shirts and being careful not to tug the drains (or pull them out- NOT an entertaining idea!!). I needed something to help me feel like I was taking a step forward, and even just removing one drain would help. Phil was home too so he could drive me as I wasn't up to driving just yet...

No one had really told me about their "removing the drains" story. I didn't ask on purpose. I had to go to the breast clinic and a nurse would remove them. I kept some Percocet (painkillers) just incase. "It's nothing" they say. "Just pulls a bit" I'm told (by the people doing the pulling may I add). This canser journey has taught me that although nurses & doctors are generally right, when it comes to pain, or side effects you gotta take what they say with a grain of salt...I've learnt that "rare" isn't all that rare when it comes to drugs or procedures.

So I was a little apprehensive when we arrived for my 'drain removal' appointment. And maybe a little emotional cause I was once again facing an 'unknown'. And something that may hurt. 

Yes, I know I've been through chemo. I've been through surgery.

But it doesn't mean at any given moment I want to feel pain...

During chemo, I was poked with needles a minimum of 16 times. (that's not including the few times they couldn't hit the vein or hit a valve). I had many needle pokes the month before chemo started - with almost every test they needed to do - and have had numerous pokes before surgery...and since surgery!

After the last 7 months, I'd be good without getting another needle ever again.

So the prospect of going in to get something removed that is sutured to your skin - and also inserted under your skin - without painkillers (or a whole tube of EMLA cream lol) wasn't high on my list of fun things to do.

But like everything else I've been through, many women before me went through this procedure. I wasn't the first, and sadly not the last. So I'd just have to suck it up.

The nurse was awesome. She took me to a room at the back of the clinic and closed the door. I was able to just pull my tank top down as opposed to having to put on one of those lovely gowns. She told me to lay back on the bed and that she wouldn't do anything without telling me what she would do first.

OK.

Heart was beating pretty fast by now. 

She looked at my drain, and noticed the clear tape that the nurse from the hospital had covered the site with. "I've never seen it covered like that before. They should have air at the site".

Heart rate up a little more.

She - VERY GENTLY - removed the tape. So far so good. That wasn't scary or painful. I took a deep breath. I think my whole body was in fight or flight mode. It was a bit hard to relax.

As she was opening her little sterile kit and explaining what would happen, my eyes welled up with tears. 

"Will it hurt?" I asked fearfully when she got to the part about 'pulling the tube out'.

"No, it might burn a bit but it shouldn't hurt".

I felt a bit better. She was very compassionate and touched my arm till I was less scared. I could tell she didn't want to hurt me and didn't want me to feel so scared. That made a huge difference - she gained my trust in those moments.

"First I"m going to just clean around the site. It's gonna feel cold but it won't hurt".

OK. She was right.

"Now I'm going to cut the sutures. There are 2 - one on each side of the drain. It won't hurt." She had tiny scissors. Right again - no pain. 

"Now I'll just pull the sutures out - you may feel some tugging, but it shouldn't hurt. Are you OK so far?"

"Yes, go ahead." And I meant it.

No pain. Maybe I relaxed a tiny bit.

But now came the main event.

"OK, so on the count of 3, I'm going to quickly pull it out."

Oh man, breathe, breathe...

She had gained my trust though, so I put my faith in her and took another deep breath as she counted to 3. On 3 she pulled about a foot's worth of drain out!!

Holy cow was that whole thing in me???

It didn't hurt at all! I was so giddy I could've danced a jig!! Except she was disinfecting again and I think it would have been frowned upon lol. While we were there I asked if she could check my right drain. It was really tender and a bit pink around the hole the drain was coming out of . She removed the tape that shouldn't have been there, cleaned it all around and assured me it looked fine. 

"It can get tender by the drain site - just keep an eye on it and if it gets worse come back".

The liquid coming out of that side didn't smell bad or look "milky" so I felt alot better leaving.

A few hours later I was amazed how great it felt to be drain free on one side!! I couldn't wait to get the other side out. Phil and I figured probably not till Monday.

But at least 1 was out!! I slept well that night. And then morning came.

I woke up in pain.

ALOT OF PAIN.

My right side really hurt and I was stiff. Getting out of bed hurt. I thought maybe all the walking to the clinic the day before had just left me sore.

And then I walked to the bathroom...that was worse than getting out of bed. 

Man, why does it hurt so bad? And I am so exhausted. Maybe I didn't sleep as well as I thought...

When Phil got up to shower he looked at the drain site - and noticed there was some green goop on the outside of the tube at the site. 

I panicked a bit.

But the liquid in the tube was fine. Phil decided to take a q-tip and with a bit of water, just gently wipe away the green stuff so it wasn't against my skin, festering all day. 

I thought I was going to be sick from the pain of the gentle touch with the q-tip.

"Call the clinic when it opens and see what they say".

OK.

In the meantime, I took a painkiller. That is the first time I had to take one in the morning for a few days.

I stayed in bed long after he and the kids left. He was worried cause I was still in bed, and in so much pain. And alone. My mom came over and I was still in bed. Phil was happy she came over. I felt wretched.

I called and made an appointment for 1PM when my mom could take me up. The liquid was below 25ml so the drain was ready to come out.

Nurse (when I called) : "Oh and don't worry about the green - some of the stuff that can leak out from the site can turn yellow or green from the air - doesn't mean its an issue".

OK.

After that call, and with my mom's help I thought I should get dressed. Figured it was a good time to check the incision. 

I lifted up my camisole and almost passed out at the site that greeted me.

There was a large, hand sized dark red patch under my incision on the side the drain was. I knew right away something was wrong. So did my mom. I snapped a pic and sent it to Phil. 

By this point the painkiller had kicked in for a while but I still felt bad. And I had zero energy. I could barely keep my eyes open.

By the time my mom came back from her nail appointment (she was leaving on a cruise the next day...) to get me, I was dressed and we left right away. I barely spoke all the way up there. I was so tired. 

We got up and got another nurse for the drain removal. I was nervous. If a q-tip had almost made me sick, how bad would removing the drain feel??? I had taken another painkiller an hour or so before but still....

For some reason the thought of throwing up in that little room horrified me. I was even more nervous than the previous day. This nurse, a different one from yesterday, named Maureen, took me to a different little room, similar to the one I had been in. She agreed right away that the red patch wasn't good (but not in a way that scared me).

She had a different way to remove the sutures which wasn't painful either. One step down. When it came time to pull the drain, I don't know who was more nervous - me or my nurse! She looked at me laying there and asked "are you ready?".

"Ya, just do it".

As she quickly pulled it out, I felt a little burning this time (kinda like when you put alcohol in a cut but less painful) but that was all. I don't even think I had the energy to be relieved. I was already worrying about what was to be done for that red patch. It was Halloween. I wanted to be home with my kids that night. It was 1:30PM. 

She brought in the nurse I saw the day before and she also agreed it didn't look at all like that the previous day. So there we were. I was hopped up on drugs, and a bit foggy, and all the doctors that had been there earlier were gone for the day (to get ready to go out with their kids maybe??). And both nurses definitely wanted me to be checked.

"Well, we think you should go to Rockyview. Not a clinic. Urgent care would work, but we really think Rockyview is your best bet. They have the resources incase you need IV antibiotics and they are familiar with Dr Austen (my Kinda Handsome Surgeon)".

So Rockyview it is. Off we went. Anxiety and sadness both had equal parts of my heart...I could feel a pity party coming on.

Luckily we got signed in and my name called within the first 20-30 minutes. We were taken to another waiting area in the back. I think I thanked my mom for the 10th time for being with me the whole day. I was freaked out. 

Finally they called my name and we got to sit on a bed behind a curtain. And wait. A nurse came in and checked all my vitals. The doctor came in a little while later. He took one look and said "yup, that's an infection. Oral antibiotics won't do anything at this point. We are going to give you a round of IV antibiotics now and then you'll need another round at 11pm tonight".

My heart was about to break. My mom took one look at me then asked "she can leave and come back for the 11pm dose, or needs to stay here till 11pm? She's concerned about going out with the kids tonight".

"No, no she can just come back at 11PM."

Silver Lining. I wouldn't miss Halloween! Although I had initially planned on going out with the kids, and now that wasn't going to happen. My mom made sure - "You are NOT going out tonight. You need to rest". For once I didn't argue. I barely had the energy to talk, let alone walk around for a few hours. But at least I would see them all dressed up and see them when they came home. I wasn't completely missing Halloween...I could live with that. I hoped my kids could...I had tried so hard to not have anything canser related interrupt anything special like holidays or birthdays etc. 

The nurse gave me my IV (in my hand - fun fun), hooked up the bag and brought my pole back to the waiting area (not when you come in, the one near the bed I was just at) and me and my Mom  just sat and chatted a bit while my fist dose of antibiotics dripped into my veins. I was still exhausted but happy something was being done to fix the issue. This wasn't how I envisioned post surgery to go though...I didn't want any complications. The nurse told me they booked me into an outpatient clinic for 8:30AM the next morning where they may decide to send me home with IV antibiotics. She told me the doc would have everything ordred so when I came back at 11pm tonight, I could just go to Emerg and they  would bring me back to where I was right now. 

Ok. 

Once my machine beeped (same as my chemo machine!) she disconnected me from the tube, and left the IV in my hand, so I wouldn't have to be poked every time. Thank God.

Then we left. It was after 4PM by this time. My in laws were coming over to help Phil take the kids out and my Mom wanted to see the kids too and make sure I was all settled before she left. I got home, ate a bit of soup that my mom made me (everyone else had pizza but I had hardly any appetite) and then I sat on the couch. I stayed there till we left at just after 10 to go back to the hospital. I tried to not take any more painkillers, but I got all flushed with fever, so thought I better not mess around. I slept almost the whole time till it was time to go. 

When we got back to Emergency, they didn't have the order on file. I was brought back within 20 minutes or so but had to wait to see the doc so he could confirm the order. I didn't get my next dose until 11:30 because of this. I guess the doc from earlier had forgot to put the order in for me. Once I was hooked up I was done within about 45 minutes. We headed home to get a few winks before we had to be up early to drop the kids off at my in laws so we could go to the outpatient clinic. 

As we made our way to the clinic the next morning (which is in Rockyview hospital) I was worried. What if the antibiotics didn't work? It looked just as "angry" in the morning, after 2 rounds of IV antibiotics. Would I get through all the canser stuff only to be taken by a stupid infection?? I was really, really anxious about this for some reason. 

We found the clinic and got there with a few minutes to spare. The nurse who checked me over and got all my info was very very nice. She seemed horrified as I went through the quick history of the last few months. I wasn't playing the canser card, but she seemed determined that I wouldn't go through any more bad stuff while under her watch. Her determination made me feel better. 

"So, is it really bad?".

"Well, you've definitely got something going on, but we see this kind of thing all the time. The doctor will be in and we'll get you all fixed up. Don't worry".

She actually helped to put me at ease. I have been so blessed by having the absolute best nurses (maybe there's no other kind!). 

The Doc came in shortly after, checked me over, and said I was to go on IV antibiotics until Monday. Because I appeared to have tolerated the drugs from the previous 2 doses he would continue with that broad-spectrum antibiotics. Then come back in to get re-assessed Monday. My nurse re-appeared and said I was to come with her to get all set up for my IV and the little machine that would administer the doses over the next few days. After watching a little how-to video on how the machine worked and how to change the bag (I would get a new IV bag delivered that night to the house!) Phil and I were told to watch the red patch and come back if it started to get worse at all. The idea that the antibiotics weren't 100% guaranteed to work (that's what I heard from that lol) scared the daylights out of me. Looking at my chest below my incision all I could think was "if they don't work what else can they cut out?? It's flat and I can feel my ribs...there is nothing else to remove!". 

I tried to push these fears down as we left the hospital. 

When I got home, I went straight to the couch. The doorbell rang and we thought it was my antibiotics replacement bag, but it was actually flowers delivered from my good friend Fiona. What a wonderful surprise!! They certainly perked me up! An hour or so later my antibiotics showed up as promised. 

The rest of the weekend I basically spent in the house, mostly on the couch. At least by Sunday it seemed to be less red, and I had more energy so I hoped that was a good sign. I certainly was buoyed. In hindsight I was in pretty rough shape on Friday. So in comparison to that at least I was miles ahead. Phil was getting better and better at being my nurse - he changed my antibiotics bag in 5 minutes without issue. 

Phil was home on Monday so he could take me to my appointment that morning to see how I was healing. We saw the same nurse from Saturday, and she agreed it looked "much better!". I felt happy she also saw the progress. It was a different doctor on call that day, but I had made sure to take pics from Saturday till Monday so he could see the progress, cause although it was less angry, it was still pink. But the antibiotics were for sure working.

A (very young) medical student came in and we chatted. He seemed awestruck by my canser story. I wasn't trying to impress anyone or make anyone feel bad for me - it's just my history to me, not a sad tale. But I guess to those who don't deal with the canser world all the time, they couldn't believe that a young woman with 2 little kids had been through chemo and surgery and now were at their doorstep. I felt like a rare species and this was his opportunity to ask all kinds of questions. He even checked my lymph nodes - which to be honest scared me a bit cause I was worried they had reason to think canser had come back....I still had not received my surgery pathology, so really anything was possible. But I think he was just curious...and VERY green as a medical student, esp when dealing with a canser patient.

Thankfully the doctor he was working with was not interested in my canser story, as it did not pertain to the present situation. He was jovial, kind and very well dressed. After examining me, he got right to the point. He could put me on oral antibiotics and was fairly sure they would work no issue. But if I stayed on IV antibiotics, I would heal faster. It was up to me - if the IV was unbearable, I could get rid of it. 

My only focus was to get rid of the infection. If it meant a few more days of IV antibiotics, I was more than happy to comply. There was emotion starting to simmer underneath my calm exterior but I pushed it down. I had to keep my eye on the prize.

So we left with more IV antibiotics and were asked to come back on Wednesday. Phil had to work the rest of the week, so his Dad decided to take Tues to Friday off and come hang out with me, and said he could take me on Wednesday to my appointment. Ya, I was blown away! What an incredibly kind thing to do.  I think he's my Mom's new favourite person as she was worried I would be on my own and helpless that week while she was gone lol.

Otherwise I would have been alone...all week long. 

When everything caught up to me....

"Children's talent to endure stems from their ignorance of alternatives". ~Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

Oct 29, 2014

My kids had been on my mind throughout all of surgery. Were they worrying? Were they scared? Did they miss me? Were they sad?

Talking to my kids about my diagnosis and then chemo went way better than I expected. So I knew kids are resilient and took their cues from us. But I was worried about how they would handle surgery. I would be permanently different after. Would this be the part that broke them?

My friend Kelly had to have a bilateral mastectomy right at the start of her journey. Then chemo, then radiation. When we went to Kelly's fundraiser in May, Emily noticed Kelly didn't have breasts. She asked me how Kelly could have breast canser if she had no boobs. I was caught a bit off guard and quickly explained how Kelly had to have an operation first to get rid of the canser. Because "sometimes that's what needs to happen first".

Emily looked horrified and said "So they chopped off her boobs??? You told me an operation is when they take the canser out!!"

I explained yes but with Kelly's case they had to remove her breasts to make sure the canser was gone.

I had not done any reading as to how to explain a mastectomy to a 5 year old. After tripping over a bunch of explanations, I told her how Kelly would get new boobs once she was all healed, figuring this would satisfy Emily.

"But they won't be the ones she was born with" is what she answered to that....

Oh man. Why is my 5 year old thinking so deeply about this? What could I say to that?

So seeing how strongly she reacted to Kelly's surgery, I was worried she might have issues with mine. Weeks before surgery, we started talking about how I needed an operation and how it might mean the same as Kelly's.

Emmy "I don't want you to chop off your boobies! I wish breast canser never existed so no mommies would ever have to get their boobies chopped off".

I came downstairs and cried. We sort of talked about it with Ethan but honestly didn't get into too much detail. He used to call my breasts my "milks" so he was attached to them in a that they represented comfort to him.

Pre-surgery was a hard time emotionally for me. Seeing their unease and unhappiness about it only made it worse. The whole situation sucked.

Two nights before surgery, Phil and Emily were talking about it.

As Phil was explaining (again) what would happen, Emily asked "So will Mommy just stand there with her eyes closed and they will chop them off?"

I'm glad it wasn't me or I would've burst into tears that this is what she was torturing herself with...

Phil explained about the special medicine that would put me in a very deep sleep so I wouldn't feel any pain. And how he and Grammy and Grandma would be with me at the hospital.

"Will you just sit in the room and watch while mommy gets her operation?"

As he was explaining the wait room, I walked in.

"Mommy what will happen to the doctors after the operation?"

"What do you mean? Like will they go home? Yes, they are just like us, they will go home to sleep."

She looked upset again. "So you'll be all alone in the hospital all night??"

Oh man. I just wanted to take all the pain and worry out of her mind. She's 5 1/2. She shouldn't have to worry about this. Any of it. Ug.

So when I got home after surgery and was resting before Phil went to pick them up, I was excited to see them (I had missed them sooo much) but I wasn't sure how they'd handle the "new me".

When they got home they raced up the stairs. I could have cried from the overwhelming emotions of seeing the kids for the first time.

Emmy "Can I see your bandages?". (this was the first thing she said to me) 

Alrighty then....

So I obliged. She was curious about the drains too. "What are those?". Ethan wanted to know too. So much for slowly showing them! I explained they were there to drain the extra liquid and that they would come out in a week or so. Then I got my hugs. Leg hugs to start as I wasn't sure how tender I was in my chest. I was actually numb around my chest, but didn't realise it as I thought it was still the general coming out of my system. Throughout the rest of the night, and coming days the kids asked to see the bandages and drains. Over and over and over. Man are they curious at this age. But I was relieved that curiosity was the main feeling and not apprehension or fear. I don't think I could have handled that.

My nephews (6 & 9) were the same that night. They wanted to see too. Aunty's show and tell lol.

Slept like a log that night (after taking a Percocet) and went to Emmy's dance class with my mom the next morning! I was still floating and thrilled about surgery being over. So much build up for it, and it was finally over. Time to move on with life. You may have noticed that I tend to tackle things head on and recovery was no different. I did make sure to take it easy that afternoon.

We took off the bandages the next morning. Hmmm still not too bad. Tape was still on them. The nurse told me I could remove the tape 10-14 days post Op.

OK.

Emmy wanted to see right away. I showed her. Ethan too. It was the same all over again - Emmy wanting to see "those marks where your boobies were" over and over the next few days. Ethan started asking when the drains would be gone, frequently, so I took it as a cue that he wasn't thrilled about them and kept them out of his sight as much as I could, without making a big fuss about it. That seemed to help.

One time we were sitting on the couch, watching a movie. He looked at my chest and exclaimed "where are your boobies?" Guess it was an adjustment for them too.

Overall the kids have handled it like champs. They make me so proud. Andrea told Emmy that she could call her anytime she wanted - to talk about whatever she wanted to. Emmy took her up on it. She told her one call that "Mommy's things where her boobies were aren't as scary anymore". This upset me a bit that she was scared about them, but it opened up a conversation, funnily enough while eating dinner lol.

"Would you guys feel better if Mommy wore a shirt the next while until I'm more healed?" They both said yes, so that's what I did - although they kept asking to see lol and I kept obliging and showing them. But maybe being able to choose when they saw was easier for them to process then be surprised if I walked around with a shirt that showed my chest when they weren't expecting it. 

Overall that week after surgery was ok. I was emotional in that for once in my whole journey I was very dependant on Phil and my Mom and help from others since I physically couldn't do alot on my own. That was hard. One time Phil was helping me to wash up in the shower and I started to cry. I felt like a 3rd child. It was frustrating as hell.

Also Ethan was not liking the whole "no normal hug" policy at first. It killed me too. But I just kept focusing on how this was temporary and I was getting stronger every day. Phil was home that week so that helped. My mom came over every day as well. 

I need to also add, when I got home from surgery I was once again reminded of all the support from those who weren't physically with me...I started getting deliveries!! Some fruit arrangements, some flower arrangements...what a wonderful way to perk me up!! I was NOT expecting this at all so they were wonderful surprises!!! My friend Melissa (who I used to work with) sent an Edible arrangement with high heeled shoe shaped goodies in them!! Phil's aunts sent me a beautiful flower arrangement! My lovely friend Bobbi and her family sent me another gorgeous flower arrangement! My sis in law came over that night with another edible arrangement! And Kelly came by for a visit and brought me the things that helped her after surgery - amazing!! The PJ's especially are awesome and warm....And Emma came by on the Sunday for a visit, tea and great conversation, which was a welcome distraction from just being stuck at home, and still tender.

I'm sure I would have stayed on the positive track, had it not been for the little snag...I got an infection....

And that was the straw that broke this camel's back....

"I can be changed by what happens to me. I refuse to be reduced by it". - Maya Angelou

Oct 24, 2014

All my nurses figured with all my visitors and for how perked up I got, that I'd crash after everyone left the hospital. I've found that in general the nurses are right. Just not this time.

With everyone gone I was left to the quiet of my own thoughts. You'd think with all that I'd been through in the last 15 hours - my 1st surgery, 1st general anaesthetic, and losing both my breasts - that this would be when everything would catch up.

Surprisingly, it was not. In weeks past, I had certainly pondered, dreaded even - this time alone after surgery. But it gave me time to process my day. To feel thankful for all that I had, as opposed to didn't have.

I couldn't sleep. Some of that was anxiety - which in hindsight I think was due to pain and stress on my body as I had yet to take any pain killers aside from what they gave me post op in recovery. Part of it was maybe all the sleep I had gotten during the day while waking up from general anaesthetic.

In total I think I slept 2 hours that night. The last I looked at the clock was 3:40am. Then woke at 4:15am. Finally got up at 5:15am as my mind would not settle down.

But I think it was a good thing. I kept looking down at my bandaged chest and tenderly touching the spot where my breasts once were. It almost felt surreal. I can honestly say though it didn't bother me...I was just trying to get acquainted with my new (if temporary) body.

After having 2 c-sections I never took the time to love (or accept) my new body. My focus was only on getting it back to the same state as it was pre-kids.

Ha.

Ha ha ha ha.

But this whole experience has taught me a new love for my body I've never had before. It has endured everything we've thrown at it so far to beat the canser. That is pretty amazing to me. Respect for my body has grown with each week, each treatment, each challenge. Surgery taught me to love all my parts cause you never know when you might lose them.

I was content.

Chemo was done. Surgery was done (and I survived!). I was feeling so loved from all the support in my life.

And the canser - if there was any left - was gone for good. In all my worrying about losing my breasts, I lost sight of the main reason they were gone.

When I heard from Phil and my mom the next morning that they were on their way to the hospital, I was so happy. I was going home.

Once they got there, my nurse went through all the care instructions for my drains. Yes, drains....my mom took a pic that isn't too graphic if you are curious:

 
 

I had  tubes coming out the side of me, below my "scars" as you can see in the picture, that ended in a little pouch that caught all the extra fluid that needed to drain after surgery. At first it was mostly blood then changed into a orange colour then yellow straw colour liquid. It wasn't too bad actually. Phil was right in there learning how to measure the liquid and empty them, as well as make sure to disinfect the spout part.

Ok, that didn't seem too bad or complicated. And most importantly he didn't seem to be grossed out by them or anything. He was a man on a mission, changing them and cleaning the tops as the nurse watched. He really is a great nurse lol

Oh and I think in all the excitement I forgot to add that I only had 2 drains - as opposed to 3...yes, the sentinel node biopsy was NEGATIVE!! Meaning no canser in lymph nodes, so I didn't have to have the more invasive 15-30 node removal!! (surgeon had told me if I woke up with 3 drains it meant the biopsy showed canser and he'd have to remove the big clump of lymph nodes originally planned). Maybe that's why the drains didn't bother me so much - I was just so bloody glad there were only 2 of the suckers.

Anyways, after the instructions (how to shower, clean, dry area etc) my nurse asked if I wanted the bandages changed.

"Well, it's my 1st mastectomy so honestly whatever you think".

She decided to change the bandages. I looked at Phil and my mom - perhaps with apprehension showing in my eyes...

"Are you guys ready to see? It's ok if no. Just don't look or go out of the room. I understand if you aren't ready yet - it doesn't bother me if not."

"No, we're good".

Oh. Was I?

Suddenly I was nervous.

Phil must have read my face. He kindly said "If you're not ready yet, just don't look or close your eyes."

Tempting.

But if I was going to get acquainted with my new body, that meant the naked part too. No time like the present right?

So I took a deep breath, and watched as my nurse gently removed the bandages for the first time.

I caught my first glimpse, but before deciding how I felt about how it looked, stole a glance at my Mom and Phil to see their reaction.

No appalled looks. No pity. They didn't seem to think I looked like a monster. Or freak. So far so good.

I looked down again and tried to evaluate what I saw. Not so bad I guess. The scars on my chest ran from my cleavage to just past my arm, about a hands length down from my armpit. They had tape on them (to help the skin heal as the stitches were on the inside and dissolving) and there was a little dry blood (from surgery I suppose).

"Wow the surgeon did a good job. Clean lines".

Huh, well that's good I guess. She's more of an expert than I am.

Then the nurse gently put the new bandages on. She had tears in her eyes as I talked about Ethan and Emmy. And then we said our goodbyes. Hugs all around. I was practically bouncing as we left...that could be cause I finally decided to take a Percocet (pain reliever), and man what a difference!! My anxiety was instantly gone once it kicked in...so I was probably in more pain than I realised. Ooops. I wouldn't make that mistake twice.

Maybe it was the drugs, but I must have been glowing cause the nurses didn't make me leave in a wheelchair (maybe they thought I still needed to burn off some energy lol). We walked all the way to the van. I was so happy to be leaving, and couldn't wait to see the kids.

I was one day past surgery, and one step closer to healing.

Surgery Part II - Waking Up

Oct 23, 2014

"It's 1:30pm. Surgery is over and it went fine. You're in recovery now".

These were the first words I heard as I felt my bed being wheeled. I tried to open  my eyes but they felt like they had bricks glued to them, pulling them closed.

Patch of bright light. Another patch of bright light.

I was feeling anxious. I need to open my eyes and start talking don't I? Isn't that what they want from you after surgery to make sure you came out of the general ok? 

I'm sooo sleepy....

"Take a deep breath for me to make sure your lungs are working OK".

OK.

By the time I could finally open my eyes - for brief periods - my bed is no longer moving, I'm in a room with other people and I'm facing a wall which has a clock and my vitals monitor.

I can hear people talking. Alot! I can barely keep my eyes open and can't fathom finding the energy to talk...How can they be talking like they just woke up from a normal sleep? What's wrong with me? 

My anxiety rises.

They are gonna want me to talk and they will probably pester me till I can talk normally...Isn't that what I am supposed to do after general? Snap out of it? I gotta fight this tiredness harder....

"Would you like some water? Your throat might be sore or feel raw or scratchy from being intibated".

I croak out a "yes please".

She comes back with ice chips too "so you don't feel nauseous".

Hmmmm...no nausea. Well that's good. 

"How is your pain? Do you need something for the pain? They gave you narcotics but sometimes they are slow to kick in. Tylenol can help the narcotics work".

I think I feel some pain but I'm not sure...it's so foggy....

"OK".

She give me 2 pills and water. Slight panic. What if I can't swallow them? But I don't have the energy to tell her so I just do it one pill at a time. Goes down ok. Relief.

Now I'm awake enough to see my surroundings but talking takes major concentration (but I can hear and understand everything  perfect - its only my voice that's in a fog).

I see the clock says 2:30. Oh man I was supposed to be gone only 4 hrs. I should have been back in my rooms around 2...They took me away just before 10AM. Does Phil know it went ok? What if my family are worried? Has anyone told them? Called them?

Man, I'm so tired.

Huh, my heart rate is around 78. The guy beside me is at 62 (I could see his monitor too - and there was nothing else to look at lol) Is my heart rate too high? 

Whoa! Mine's going up to 120! Ok, Ok calm down - close your eyes and visualise the mountain and tress from the Wellspring class. Phew, heart rate back down. 

I don't like that machine. It's freaking me out a little. But I have nothing else to look at or distract me. And what if I don't keep an eye on it and my heart rate jumps again?

BEEP!

What was that??? It's not my machine...

BEEP!

Oh no is something wrong with someone behind me? Are they in trouble? I can't see...its not crazy repetitive beeping but boy is it loud...

BEEP!

Man that's scaring me. If they just came out of surgery and are in trouble then the same can happen to me!

"Um, can I please have more water?" I barely croak out.

Wow, I got a sentence out! But I hope she helps me drink - holding a cup seems like alot of energy that I don't think I have....

"Are you cold? Do you need a blanket?"

Hmmmm, no...

"No I'm actually hot flashing".

Getting a little easier to talk. Not long sentences though.

Oh that damn monitor is showing my heart rate go up again...like 125...calm down, calm down...Ok back down to 78. That must be my normal.

Oh no going up again! 125. 130. 135.

"Um excuse me...excuse me...." I croak to a man in purple scrubs. Slight panic in my voice.

A nurse comes right over to me "yes, can I help you?".

"I think my heart is racing"

She's looking at me and takes my hand (maybe she was sneakily taking my pulse now that I think about it) But she isn't looking at the machine, which is behind her.

"Does your heart race from time to time? Maybe after you have a hot flash?".

"No, I don't think so...I've never noticed".

OH GOD OH GOD it's going higher! 145...man now I can feel it pounding in my chest. What if it goes so high it stops and they have to use those paddles on me? Would that hurt? Would I lose consciousness? Am I having a heart attack? I can't tell her how scared I am...

156. (calm down calm down...deep breaths...visualise...focus...forget the numbers...)

To the nurse "it's just the number seems to be high on the machine" I point to the vitals machine behind her.

She turns to look at the machine.

"Oh ya. Let me get some monitors on you. Take your blood pressure".

Oh man is it really that bad then? She's monitoring me - can't be normal. Please just calm down. I'm scared. My family is waiting for me. I hate this anxiety.

Heart rate slowly goes back to 78ish. I could cry from relief. Nurse calls anaesthesiologist. That concerns me a bit. And she's hovering. Are they worried? Is this serious? I don't want it to happen again. That was really scary. I feel like a kid lost in a store trying to find their parents. I don't like feeling this way.

It's 3pm. Phil and the moms must be wondering what's going on.

"Um sorry to bother you but did anyone call my husband? He's here at the hospital. He waited here the whole time I was in surgery. I'm not back yet. I'm worried he's worried."

"I don't think anyone called him but I can get you a phone!".

Relief but mild anxiety. I have to talk? I don't know if I have the energy . I can keep my eyes open all good now, but talking still requires major effort. What if I can't leave a message? Or start then can't finish it? That will scare him more. Oh God.

"Here's the phone".

So I call but get voice mail. I leave a message.

"I'm out of surgery. I'm all good, just waiting for a bed. Had a bit of a racing heart but it's all good now. I'll see you soon. Love you".

Anaesthesiologist comes by. Asks about racing heart. It doesn't appear related to surgery (as in a complication or side effect to general) My EKG thingy shows normal, so it was likely from 1. pain, 2. stress or 3. anxiety. Ha, ok that explains it. But I'm still terrified it's going to happen again. I didn't like it. At all.

Finally at 3:30 they tell me they are just waiting for a bed and I get my "release" papers from recovery. By 4pm I'm being wheeled out. Still anxious, but more awake than before. Still no nausea.

As I come around the corner, I see Phil's very relieved face and next thing he's right by my side (he moves fast!) and kissing my face all over. 

Man, he must have been worried!

"Sorry I took so long".

He's smiling and holding my hand as they wheel me back to my day surgery spot. Its after 4pm. I have been gone almost 7 hours. 

Next my mom comes over, relief also all over her face. "Hi babygirl. I Love you" I feel calmer now that they are with me and see I'm ok. My mother in law and father in law are there too., They are all in my room (so much for the 1 person rule lol)

My mom "If you're tired, close your eyes and rest. Don't worry about us".

My eyes pop open. "Don't leave - please!" That scares me. I don't want to be alone again.

"No, no we're not going anywhere. Just sleep if you're tired. We're right here."

I finally relax. They won't leave me. I've made it through surgery. Thank you God.

"Are you hungry?"

"Ya, I'm starved! When's food coming?"

6pm. 

Oh man the last time I ate was 530 the prvious night. Feeling lightheaded. Hope that's my blood surgar and not low blood pressure...still anxious.

"Apple juice please". 

I need to get sugar into me. I don't want to get nauseous from no food.

I drink (slowly) through 2 of them and feel better. And have to pee. BADLY! But I have these clot preventing squeezy leg things on that I need help to get out of.

But just then my Kinda Handsome Surgeon comes by. 

He is smiling from ear to ear. "Surgery went great! Textbook surgery. ...blah blah blah..." All I can think is I gotta go to the bathroom NOW. It's actually getting painful so I start to sit up and undo the straps on my legs on my own as he is talking. He looks so happy and I'd love to talk to him but I can't think cause my bladder is going to exlpode!

He leaves and with the nurses help I walk to the bathroom and feel so much better (my pee is greeny-blue...weird...Is that from the general? oh ya probably from the blue dye they injected into me for the node biopsy) She gives me a quick sponge bath to get all the yellow germ killing stuff off my skin from surgery. I look down at my chest but it's still bandaged.

Hmmm...Doesn't look too bad.

Phil and my Mom :"It's slimming!"

Ya I guess it kinda is. Hmmm, wonder how much weight I've lost?? It's not bad at all. Well that's a surprise - I didn't think I'd embrace my new body so soon. Course I'm so relieved surgery is done so maybe it's sort of a "honeymoon" phase. I'm rolling with it whatever it is.

After I eat supper I'm like a new woman! Wide awake, colour back in my face but most telling - talking. Non stop! 

My friends Janis and Liz stop by hospital to visit. How awesome is that?? The nurses allowed us to skip the whole 1 person at a time rule and now it's like a party in my room! 

I'm so happy. Wow...didn't expect that!

Aside from this (rather loud) group in my room, Phil tells me his and my Facebook have exploded with messages. I look at my phone and it's true! He's been updating facebook and done an awesome job...Facebook, Emails, texts! Wow! It's gonna take me all night to read all the messages!!

So, as visiting hours come to an end, and these amazing people in my life leave, my heart is once again filled with love...and hope.

Thank you....

"...I've had bad habbits but I dropped em..

I've had oppnonents but I knocked them out,

I climbed the highest mountains,

I swam the coldest seas,

There ain't a thing I've faced that's been too much for me...

Nobody's gonna see me coming,

Nobody's gonna hear a sound,

No matter how hard they trying, 

No stopping me since I've found

My Inner Ninja...."

Inner Ninja - by Classified.