Post-Op

I did it. I can’t believe I did it, but I did. At 0545 on Thurs. May 31 I arrived at the hospital and prepared myself for a B/L Mastectomy (from here on, I’ll just call it a BMX). I spoke with my surgeons, got an IV started and was wheeled in to the OR at about 0730. I was semi awake at that point. I watched them strap down my left arm, Dr. C held my right hand, warming blankets were under and on top of me, and they put an oxygen mask over my face. I remember saying “I don’t need oxygen” and from that point on I don’t remember anything. I don’t think there was oxygen coming out of that mask.

Next thing I knew I was in the recovery room. There was an oxygen tube in my nose that I removed, and they put back. And I removed. And they put back. Did you ever need oxygen? It smells weird and does weird things to my taste buds. I was in an amazing amount of pain and the recovery room nurse kept putting pain meds in my IV. I couldn’t move any part of my upper body without pain searing across my chest. I had no idea how often my pectoral muscles were used until that moment. Alan was there and he told me this:

THEY ONLY REMOVED 2 LYMPH NODES!!

If you have been keeping up with my blog then you know that is good news. But I will give you the short story about the nodes now. The first thing that happened in the OR was the Sentinel Lymph Node Study. Remember that radioactive isotope dye they inserted the day before surgery? Well that dye goes to the Sentinel Lymph Node (the main node) that receives lymphatic fluid from a cancerous tumor (still don’t know yet if I even had a tumor). And then kind of follows a chain from one lymph node to the next. So Dr. C removes the first node and the second node too because it was stuck to the first node. Those two nodes were immediately studied by a pathologist and:

NO CANCER CELLS WERE FOUND IN EITHER ONE OF THEM!

Which means….most likely…but we do have to wait until the final pathology report comes back….MY CANCER HAS NOT SPREAD OUT OF MY BREAST!!

YES!!!! I still need to do the whole chemo thing tho, just in case one nasty little cell escaped and is cruising around in my blood looking for a place to stop and grow. Remember what I said before, it takes 100 billion cells to make a tumor 1cm. in size. So the chemo, the Hercpetin and the Tamoxafin are still necessary for my survival.

But I will, right now, say that I am a SURVIVOR!!

Also, right now, I hurt. For about 24 hours post op I couldn’t even lift my head up off a pillow. My folks brought over their Lazy Boy recliner for me. Which is a huge help because I can’t get up once I lie down. The chair is my new home. I spend almost the entire day in it. And I still need help getting in it, but I can get out of it OK. I eat meals sitting in it, read in it, watch tv in it. Sleep in it.

And my support system is rallying. Alan is here all day (of course) helping me eat (couldn’t do that for a meal or two by myself), mom and dad come too, and they have taken Michelle for the weekend. I saw her Fri. night and Sat. morning but now won’t see her again till Mon. after school. She is glad that I am home but saddened that I’m pretty much immobile. And the nurses I know are rallying too. Nancy came by Friday night to remove my bandages and she came by last night to help me shower (Alan bought me a chair to sit in while I am showering) and tonight Robin will come over and help me shower too. Today Paulette is coming and we will take a short walk around the block. Which will feel so good, it’s so nice outside. Gifts are being delivered, text messages, emails and phone calls are coming at regular intervals, the meal system Laura put in place starts tomorrow and it sure is nice to be so loved.

I could go on and on about my hospital stay, my pain, what I can and can’t do, and all the weird dreams the pain meds make me have, but I won’t. I won’t dwell now on the negative. I choose instead to bask in the rays of sunshine people have been pouring down on me since my diagnosis and especially in the last few days.

I will wait in optimistic anticipation for the final pathology report; I will start and end my chemo with dignity and grace. I will handle all the yukky side effects the best I can. And I will hope to ring in 2013 with new breasts and hair.

Ladies, go get your mammogram.