Surgery. I had been dreading it for weeks but it came on fast. The day before was filled with so much anxiety. I’m very much a control freak. All of this has been out of my control. I wasn’t afraid of recovery nor what the final pathology reports would be. I was afraid to be put under. The morning of surgery, as I kissed my sons sleeping foreheads, I cried. What if their last memory of me is bed time chaos of who is making noise or wandering around or bunny foofoo wrestling? Still, I left with John to the hospital. I couldn’t really talk. My mind and pulse were racing.
Once we made it there, everything took place so fast. No time to think!! I had to disinfect myself!! Including my nostrils!! For real! Yuck! My vitals were checked and my blood pressure was up because of how stressed I was. There was talk of medicating me to calm me down. I needed it! Both surgeons came in and talked and marked me. Both anesthesiologists came in. I grilled them. I was told that it’s such a safe thing to be put under. Easy for them to say, right? Finally, I had to say goodbye to John. That was the worst feeling. I didn’t want to go…but I did…I had a life to save…mine.
I was wheeled past one of my surgeons, with tears just pouring out of my eyes. I got a hug and was reassured that not only was I going to wake up but I was going to be fine. Once in the operating room, they moved me onto the table and I made a comment about the dinky little pillow I had to rest my head in. They asked if I wanted anything to calm me down first and I eagerly said yes! So as we all talked about how cold it was in the operating room I noticed my speech was slurred. “Hey!! You’re knocking me out, aren’t you? That’s not nice.” Laugher and lights out…
Beeping and banging and voices…I open my eyes. Holy shit, I made it! Seriously, that was my first thought. Then, oh wow, I’m hungry and need a drink. Then, where’s John?! He was right there. The hardest part was over. No matter how bad recovery was going to be, I can do it.
I was left in recovery for 9 hours. No joke. I wanted to nap. Nope. Not there. Too loud. At first it was to monitor my pulse and blood pressure. It was higher than they’d like it to be. I was in PAIN. Thankfully, I had a wonderful nurse who stayed ahead of my pain with various injections that apparently made me high but soooo pleasant! Some of you may have gotten some funny texts from me, you're welcome…She also hooked me up with a lovely turkey dinner. Amazingly good. John went home and got the kids and came back to see me, still in recovery! UGH! I was moved to my own room at 930pm. Horribly long day. I wanted to sleep.
Once in my room, my new nurse mentioned getting me up and moving before settling in for the night. Took 10 minutes to just stand up. The pain was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. T Rex arms. I have them. Makes almost any kind of motion difficult.
Life is now different. Blood pressure. No more left arm. It’s recommended to use my legs for blood pressure and pulse now, not sure how they’re going to draw my blood but I’ll deal with that when I need to. As part of my double exorcism, first set of lymph nodes had to go, bye bye sentinel nodes. Unfortunately, one of those came back positive so the first surgeon had to move to the next set of nodes, called axcillary. Vocabulary. It just keeps growing. As a result, I am at risk for lymph edema. Medical alert bracelet? Yes, please…
Home. I was finally going home. I was supposed to be released at 930am on Friday but had some set backs in terms of pain, pulse and blood pressure. I broke out of there at 5pm with my get away driver, John. No matter how bad I felt, I was going home to my family and trust me, there has never been a more wonderful feeling in my life.
Lots of new things to keep track of. Medications, bulbs and drains and the corset from hell that Satan himself designed. I’ve managed to stay ahead of pain and discomfort with only Celebrex and Tylenol. It was definitely rough a few times and the pain levels took my breath away. I needed to stay alert to monitor any changes that could be a problem.
I’m either a spider or I have more balls than any guy I know. Both scenarios amuse me. The tubes and bulbs coming out of me don’t. They’re gross and labeled and I have to keep track of how much fluid is draining out of me, yuck. If I have to do this, these things are my balls because you have to have one hell of a set to do what I’m doing. I’m so tough I get two pairs. So there.
I am home. I was able to celebrate Cayden’s birthday on Friday evening. It pains me that I wasn’t there when he woke up. My sons birthdays are tied into my cancerversary now. I learned I had breast cancer on Shawn’s birthday and somehow, with the help of John and his brother and sister in law, we got through celebrating with Shawn and no one but us knew. I was afraid of not making it out of surgery and never being there for Cayden’s birthday. Birthdays are about life. Perhaps their birthdays mark the beginning of my own rebirth…
Yes, these things bounce all over the place even when pinned! I lose a set this week and then the last pair next week. My balls will always be with me, in spirit...take that, Felicia! I won.
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