Although I feel a bit of an old hand at this surgery lark now, I have to admit to a bit of trepidation yesterday morning. Peter and I had had very limited sleep we were both a tad on the cranky side (me especially). The nurse noted that my blood pressure was rather high and at that point I decided we needed to kiss and make up. Never a good idea to go into surgery in a bad mood.
I think all went well, although you never get to talk to your surgeon after surgery, heaven forbid, I suppose they think you will be too woozy to take anything in, so, I won’t really know how it all went from her perspective until my post-op apt next Wednesday. From my end, well, lets just say there are a lot of stitches and I am the lucky recipient of yet another drain for a week. Pain level not bad, until I try to move but that will subside quickly I hope. The absolute best part of coming home from the hospital though is the look of love on my cat’s face when he realized his job as “guardian of the sick one”, was back on
If anybody is still out there and still interested I have some news….
After a gap of sixteen months, I am headed back to the operating room. It appears that I have a wayward breast implant. Now, the picture of the lovely little vintage Morris Minor is not mine, although I’ve always had a soft spot for them, no, I just needed an image to do with traveling.
Back to my errant boob. The right one as it happens, began it’s slide southward about six months ago, but of late it has become quite pronounced and somewhat worrisome. Off I go to see my plastic surgeon Dr V who is all smiles and hugs until I dramatically fling open my robe and say “I think I may have a problem”
She sort of gasped a little bit, recovered herself and said “Oh yes, I see, have you had any trauma?” This question could have elicited all sorts of answers from me of a sarcastic nature, but, as I assumed she meant something like an air bag deployment to my chest, I assured her I had not. You never quite know if these things are routine or not do you? The doctors act as if it’s an everyday occurrence and they fix dozens of them a year, but really I have no idea at all if this is normal or not, maybe someone out there in cyberspace can enlighten me.
The crux of the matter seems to be that cadaver skin (nicer sounding technical name ALODERM) that is used to make a sling under the implant and hold it all in place, has become detached from my chest wall. So, all that remains is for me to pop back into the OR and have it re-attached……nothing to it….I hope.
I went in today for my pre-op appointment (surgery is on the 13th) and I sensed a certain vagueness in answers to questions like “how long will it take?” and “will I have to have drains again?” both of which received a squinty eyed smile and a head bobble “Probably not, but I won’t know until I get in there and how deep I have to go”
“HOW DEEP?” Alright, let’s just get this malarkey over with already. I will keep you posted……..
Aright, I know that it takes time to recover from surgery and that you need to take it easy blah, blah, blah. But, out here in Port Orchard it is trying to be spring and I have vowed to get my garden whipped into shape this year. The thing is I seem to be having a spot of trouble with my left arm. Do you remember I had that axillary cording business after the mastectomy? Well something similar seems to be happening again. I don’t know if when I had this last surgery the surgeon somehow pulled something tight again. I don’t have the cording that shows like guitar strings down my arm but I am experiencing pain when I stretch out my arm. Still, I am not going back to physical therapy as I think I can just work it out myself.After two years of hospitals I now avoid going as much as possible, you understand.The rest of me seems to be healing ok, those long scars are looking much better now.
Back to spring in the garden. I decided to hire myself a little muscle. Yes well, I can’t call Dave exactly muscle-bound (He;s more on the small wiry side) but he is helping me for a couple of hours a week to do some of the more strenuous tasks that need doing.After fifteen years of marriage, I think I know my husband is never going to come around to loving days spent at one with the dirt, so I took matters into my own hands and advertised in the local paper. We have now successfully redone the compost bins (with the help of Peter after all) and I am full of good intentions to keep then in tip-top shape and that compost turned and used. I mean I have the chickens and they freely give of their eggs and their….poop! So I need compost bins. I now have three for compost and one for leaf mold. Something my brother (the real gardener in the family) swears by. If you don’t know about it click on the link above, this is what we sould be doing with our leaves insead of blowing them all over the place.I also managed to plant a few brussels and red cabbages in the newly weeded raised bed. Oh, this is going to be a great year for the veggies. Gosh mabe I’ll start a gardening blog!
Well no, actually it is not. I have been in what would we call this?…..Oh yes agony! That’s probably a bit too strong, but I have been really hurting since I have been home. Oh, well this just serves me right for being so glib about my last and final surgery. “It’s nothing” I said ” just going in to get rid of those chicken wings under my armpits that used to be part of my boobs” I joked. Well the joke was on me this time because, as you will see from the photo, this was hardly a minor nip and tuck. The thing is, those are not the bits that hurt, no, that would be where I had some fat (aparently it takes a quite bit) lipo’d from my tummy to fill in my divot and even out the look of my little lumps. Right, take it from me liposuction hurts….a lot, and the bruises! well I’m not even going to show you those for fear it would put you all off your dinners. So, here I am, wearing something akin to a Kevlar girdle and bra,(I really am sure this thing could stop a bullet) looking as if I’ve taken a few punches from someone who knows a thing or two about boxing and feeling really miserable. I am sure to be back from this pity party for one soon but right now I think I feel a bit sorry for myself.
On entering the waiting area for surgery intake patients, I was struck by how jovial everyone seemed. Some people bring whole families with them and yesterday was no exception. A big happy Hawaiian band of smiley faces, a good omen I thought. They whipped me right in on time and maybe it’s because I’m getting to be an old hand at this but it all seemed to go very smoothly. I was done with surgery by two in the afternoon and on my way home by four thirty…..nothing to it. I even pulled the medical priority boarding for the ferry ride home which was great, we just had to show the special paper from the hospital and then pulled in front of everyone else and drove straight on,in rush hour which was fantastic as I was pretty uncomfortable in my outfit. This time they sent me home in a full on wraparound velcro girdle and another massive velcro compression bra, phew! you can hardly breath. Anyway, I am doing fine although I am covered in bruises and have about a hundred stitches in me and am swimming in a percocet fog. So, if none of this makes sense you will know why. Just thought I should let you all know I am home, recovering and happy.
Alright, it’s time to fix up that little back bedroom,commonly refered to here as the A.S.S (after surgery sanctuary) ready for my return from the Swedish country club and spa, oh ok, but hospital doesn’t sound like nearly as much fun. I have an early check-in, in the morning, so hopefully that will mean that I will be over the anaesthetic and able to come home the same day. I am supposed to be in for about a three-hour opp. This sort of surprised me as I thought this little nip and tuck to my Barbie boobs was going to be a snap. Ha, when is anything a snap? But, on the positive side this should be my last and final trip to the OR in a long long time. My surgeon Dr V has just returned from a conference in Hawaii, so I feel certain she will be rested and ready to go. I have taken a full week off work to recover and I hope this will be enough. I am going to be stuck in bed for a while and am sure I will feel the need to write a blog post or two, so, bye for now and I’ll see you on the other side of what I hope will be an easy surgery.
I feel as if I am finally coming to the end of this long journey. I have one last surgery to go, scheduled on February 26th. This is related to my breast reconstruction, a little bit of nipping and tucking, if you will and a very strange sort of divot that has appeared that also needs some attention. After that…..I”M DONE! Done with it all and forever (one can only hope) Tied into that is my coming to terms with finishing this blog. Another lady whose cancer blog I follow, recently said, that now she is not undergoing any active treatment, blogging about every day life just seems, well, a bit self-indulgent and I agree. Sharing my life over the past, almost two years has helped me cope in ways I would never have imagined. I knew when it was time to write a post about some of the less savory issues of dealing with cancer, I reached to find that funny spot because I knew you wouldn’t want to read fear in my voice and once I had found it, it became even more amusing and less scary to me because,it is so true that laughter is the very best medicine. For me, writing about it was my way of staying calm. “Keep calm and carry on” as we Brits say. More than that though, I felt I needed to tell people, at first just my friends, then my clients, then the world. I had had not one but two separate cancers and look…….I’m coping, I’m working, I’m still living my life. It is not as bad as you might think.
When I was first diagnosed, I searched for someone out there in the cyber world who had been through my cancer too and lived to tell a positive tale. I didn’t find them. All I found were people with horrible tales to tell. So I thought “Right, I’ll do it” and I believe I have.Staying positive has never been a problem for me but I could not have done it if it were not for you. Those little messages of encouragement over the past two years have been such an invaluable part of my stamina, courage and recovery. You can NEVER know how much. Thank you all for every word, every card and every single dollar. I feel I could write a whole book on the kindness and generosity of my friends. Having cancer sucks, dealing with health insurance companies sucks, constantly worrying about going bankrupt sucks and will continue to suck for all the years it will take me to pay them off, but I am able to face it all so much easier because I know I have the love and support of so many people, all pulling for me.I felt and still feel I have this little fan club and I am not going to let any you down. One of my clients has a sister who is a Mother Superior at a convent on the east coast. She informed me that my name had been added to their prayer list back in 2011 and that every day since, 300 nuns have been praying for my recovery. Can you imagine that? One of the many things that have just blown me away. I have had over 13,000 hits on this blog since it’s inception and at last count people from sixty-eight different countries have clicked on to read about my life. It is all a bit mind-boggling. Especially when I think about some of the content….ehem!
I also just had my six month colon scan (all clear) and I will post agin, just to let you know how this last surgery goes and who knows maybe someday I’ll start another blog.For now though I’m getting ready to close the book on this chapter of my life. I am a better person for having cancer, it has been a vehicle to enrich my life…….who’d have thunk that!