Hi all! My amazing hubby has done a spectacular job of keeping everyone updated on my progress during this crazy journey of mine/ours, but I just had to pop in and express my immense gratitude for all of the love, prayers and overall good vibes that have come our way. Your warm & thoughtful wishes, wonderful gift cards, sweet notes, amazing care packages, delicious treats, and the covering of SO many of our meals, has truly meant the world to both of us and helped make a vey trying time ALOT less stressful. A special shout-out to Julie for stepping up and arranging a place where everyone can contribute dinners. We had no idea how helpful that would be, but it was immense.
Although i haven’t been online much at all, which believe me, is better for everyone, Bill has been passing along all of your kind words, love and wishes for a speedy recovery. I wish I could hug each and everyone of you and tell you in person how much you mean to me, how much I love you, and what am amazing person you are, but since I cannot, please know that yes, I am talking about you. And you. And you. <3
I had my first post-op appointment yesterday and it went as well as can be expected at this point. My plastic surgeon said everything was looking good and just as it should be at this stage, which admittedly I just can’t go into detail about and trust me, you don’t want me to. The BEST news was that I was able to have my drains removed!! I believe Bill mentioned them in an earlier post, but they’re basically there to carry excess unwanted fluid and blood away from the surgical sites and lessen chances of buildup and infection. Thankfully, 1) I only had to have one on each side–some people can have 4 or more total depending on the extent of the surgery, which I just can’t imagine, and 2) said nasty fluids were were gracefully un-plentiful and thus, the godforsaken drains came out! With a bit of of an holy-hell-ouch as each one was pulled out; overall it was a HUGE sense of relief to not have these bulbous, gross tubes hanging off my sides, following me everywhere I went and forcing my poor husband, (have I mentioned how wonderful he is??), to drain them and measure their output twice a day for well over a week. So while I still have quite a road ahead, getting rid of those damn things was quite the little victory indeed. We celebrated with my first post-surgery outing of an awesome lobster roll for lunch at Steuben’s and followed with quite possibly the best ice cream in the world, Salted Oreo from Little Man Ice Cream. And ice cream can’t help but make everything better, right?
A few people have asked and I’m sure more have wondered, why in the world would a healthy 40 something (yup, still in my 40’s for “several” more years so I’m using it!) would put herself and her loved ones through such a major surgery, a literally life changing event in the off chance that I may get breast cancer some day. BUT that is exactly why after much consideration, discussion and endless amounts of research, both pros and cons, that I HAD to make such a difficult decision. After finding out almost ten years ago that knowing that because I had inherited the BRCA gene mutation from my mother’s side of the family, my chances of getting breast or ovarian cancer in my lifetime were significantly increased; up to 85%+ chance of breast cancer and upwards of 50% of getting ovarian, which my mother passed away from at age 62. I just knew that if there was anything at all i could do to spare my loved ones and of course, myself, that horrible, tragic and extremely difficult fate, I had to do it. And while it would have made the decision to have a double mastectomy easier if I already had cancer, I’m incredibly thankful that I was able to make it without such a diagnosis. I know too many others who have not had the same “luxury”. Reconstruction for those with cancer can be even tougher, and options are more limited.
Don’t let anyone tell you oh, but it’s just your boobs and you’ll get perky pretty new ones or big deal, were you really using your ovaries anymore anyway? Loosing these parts of myself, especially ones that literally ones that make up your womanhood, is no easy decision and even though I know I’ve made the right choices for myself and my family, I would never presume to make such personal decisions for anyone. In fact, I chose surveillance over surgery for many years, combining MRIs with mammograms with ultrasounds with CA125 blood tests every 6 months until I decided that I was finally ready to lessen the ticking time bomb feeling in my gut and go through with the surgeries. Anyone who knows me, knows how a bit of a hypochondriac/drama queen/scaredy cat I can be when it comes to illnesses. But I knew in my heart of hearts that THIS was not one of those times. This was way too important and the stakes of not taking action because I was scared of the pain, outcome, cost, name-your-fear—I had it—were way too high, not to take this particular plunge into the unknown. While there’s still a very small chance, basically I now have the same percentage chance as the general population, I already feel an immense weight lifted off my shoulders. Now if I could just get said weight off chest. ;-D
So where am I now? Well, thankfully the beautiful Springlike weather we’ve been having has allowed us to get out for a walk down to the lake and back every day. Each day it seems to take less time to get there, although the snail’s pace saunter on the way home still seems to take much longer than I’d like and I’m generally wiped out after each excursion. I’m currently trying out another pain killer Tramadol, which has been described as somewhere between Ibuprofen and the Dilaudid. The latter was efficient, but problematic in the headache department. We had learned from previous surgeries that the really good heavy hitters, Percocet and Vicodin, were automatically out for me unfortunately, due to nausea. So far the Tramadol seems to be closer to Ibuprofen than the Dilaudid so I’m still in a good amount of pain with no ice or heat allowed on my very sensitive (in some areas) and deadened (in others) nerve endings. (Thank god again for my incredible drug pusher husband for keeping this all straight for me.) Thankfullly, though, that brings less fog with it and I’m finally able to start catching up on some fave shows like Scandal (Cyrus!!!), The Americans, This is Us and not nodding off every two mins or so. We’ll hopefully will be starting some new ones this coming week that we’ve been interested in: Stranger Things, Black Mirror and The Crown. But, no not Game of Thrones. Just not there yet and don’t know if I ever will be. Still don’t have the focus to read much, even my stupid entertainment mags, but that’s not too much of a loss when it comes to those I guess. Thankfully my bed is super comfy, made even more so with a cuddling cat, even though I can’t lift her (nothing over 5 lbs right now) and a more gentle cuddling husband, whom I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to lift. I’m also very confident he, among many others, are keeping many of the local flower shops in business!
Speaking of which, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but Bill Holland is a rock star. He’s quite literally my rock and has taken over without hesitation the laundry, cleaning, pillow fluffing (very important for mastectomy patients), always with a smile on his face and with absolutely no judgement or commentary of all the the to-do notes/instructions I left around the house for him pre-surgery. Even the plants are surviving! I love you, babe, and and I literally could NOT have done any of this without your love and support. I wouldn’t wish this experience on any couple, but being able to hold on to each other tight when one is too weak to stand on their own for a time, to being able to shed tears together and not feel so alone in our pain and of course, to be able to laugh with each other, especially when the craziness of this world and everything we’re all facing right now, is something I wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. I’m so thankful to have you by my side for all of it, my love.
The coming weeks will continue to involve weekly doctor’s visits with more poking and prodding, pathology reports from the breast tissue they removed, the pumping of the currently in-place chest expanders which quite literally feel like bricks, a lessening of pain meds, longer walks around the lake and hopefully very soon, more get-togethers with family and friends where I can start to feel like a normal person again. I’m super excited that my brother will be arriving tonight, driving out from SLC by himself just to help for a few precious days and keep me in stitches (pun intended) with his humor. Once the expanders are of an appropriate yet-to-be-determined size ;), I’ll have at least one more surgery to trade the expanders for much the much softer, natural silicone implants. A few touchup surgeries may follow, as is often expected, but this was the big one and I’m so, so glad it’s over with.
Thank you to all those who are too many to name, but who’ve come before me to share their pain, struggles, advice and simply a shoulder to cry on, some of whom I know personally and many that I don’t. It’s helped immensely, and continues to help more than you know.
Well, I’m not gonna lie, the pain is no joke, especially when I literally can’t stomach the strong (i.e., good) stuff, so I should wrap this up for now before I start typing Q#$^GIO$zzzzz. Good news: the Mack track carrying the ton of bricks over my chest has now lessened to a Hummer limo (hey better to go in style, eh?) 😉 and I can lift my arms (mostly) and get by on less sleep each day. Plus, I no longer need the not as fashionable blue plastic barf bags by my bedside. It hasn’t been and will continue to not be easy, but thanks to all of you, I haven’t once thought that I made the wrong decision. For my family. For my friends. For me.
