Stolen Light

The month of November:

Most of my taste buds have returned and food is starting to taste normal.
Only 2 little chemo treatments.
2 blood draws for labs and 1 blood transfusion.
Five doctor appointments.
And a mammogram.

Thanksgiving at the farm was wonderful.  I tried not to think about what was around the corner and just enjoyed the day.  Hanging out and playing with all the family.  Ryan even got to help birth a baby calf.  My mom let him have naming rights - Penny is cute and has black curly hair like Ryan!

Then is was time to go home.

 Reality was coming.

Monday, Dec 1st was crazy!!  I had a list a mile long of things that I wanted to get done, knowing the next day was surgery and I had no idea what to expect for recovery time and mobility after.  Tons of errands, buying supplies for after surgery - bras, pillows, and shirts that buttoned up the front so I could dress myself. Plus getting groceries so there would be some food in the house, talking to the kid's teachers to let them know what was going on and finishing up the last of my Christmas shopping.  Oh, and a small chemo treatment.  I was so tired by the end of the day! 

I couldn't sleep, in fact I held Gage on my chest and watched him sleep all night.

The morning came way too soon.

I had to be at the hospital at 6:45am.  

This surgery was happening. 

After the previous month's appointment with my 2 surgeons I had mostly come to terms with having a mastectomy because they were going to be able to save some of the surface tissue and put the permanent implant straight in.  I was actually seeing a little glimmer of light - a positive outcome to all that I had been through so far.  I wouldn't have to endure the 6 months to a year with painful tissue expanders and I wasn't going to have to come home ... well, flat.

I checked into the hospital about 7am.  First they got my in my fancy gown and IV in.  Then I headed procedure - it wasn't.  It took over an hour because of the where and the angle of the tumor and it hurt.  I will spare you most of the details but imagine a mammogram lasting an hour, numerous shots around the tumor (my breast) to numb it so they could stick big wires through my breast to mark the original size of the tumor before the chemo shrunk some of it.  Then back to the surgery waiting area.   I didn't get into surgery until after one. I was under the impression I would only be in the OR for 3 maybe 4 hours.  To be honest I don't remember much of anything after kissing Ryan goodbye.  A few hours later the first surgeon came out after he was done and talked to my mom and Ryan, he told them the surgery went well. He was able to remove all of what he believed were cancer cells, took out a cluster of 5 lymph nodes, but he also had to cut a nerve that runs down my arm (which may never get feeling back and always be numb).  Then the reconstructive doctor began his work putting in an implant.  It was a lot more involved than I ever thought and I didn't get back to my room until around 7pm.  Again I don't remember much of anything.  Okay, I lie - I remember pain.  A lot.  My mom tells me that every time a nurse asked how I was I couldn't really answer and every breath I took I moaned.  Apparently I got multiple doses of something stronger than morphine, and that wasn't helping so the nurse called my doctor with what to give me next.  I got some morphine.  They were hoping I would be able to eat a little something so they could give me longer lasting pain meds by mouth.  I do remember my mom trying to feed me yogurt and after two or three bites, I told her to get me something to throw up in.  Next I got some nausea meds.  I must have just gone to sleep cause I don't remember anything else about that night.  (My doctor told Ryan I shouldn't remember anything - so apparently Ryan wanted to confess all his darkest secrets, I don't know if he did :)  The next morning I was still pretty groggy and when the reconstructive doctor came in all I could ask was why my sternum hurt and that it was painful to breathe.  So when he put the implant in, he inserted it under the muscle.  Therefor he had the cut the muscle off my collar bone, ribcage and sternum.   He put the implant in and needed a little extra skin so he had to use cadaver skin and stitched it with my muscle to my sternum to give a pocket for the implant.  That is how I kinda understand, I really am not 100% sure all the technically stuff, but it looked good. 

I hurt.

I was trying to eat and at least get up to go to the restroom and walk around the floor a bit.  I opted to stay another night because of the pain. 

That evening my surgeon (the removal one) came by.

He had bad news. 

Pathology came back.  The margins around the tissue were not clean.  Which meant I would have to go back to the OR.  Basically starting over -  cut and remove all the skin that was saved, scrape the muscle, remove the implant, not replace it with anything because there would not be enough skin.   Actually, now they would have to use some of the skin from under my arm/back area to cover the large hole.

I couldn't think about it anymore.

I officially hit my lowest point.  My hope was gone.  I couldn't see the light anymore.

I cried, most of the night.

Thursday morning came with the two surgeons trying to find a time to get me back in the OR as soon as possible.  The second surgery started around 3pm and lasted almost 3 1/2  hours.  Physically this one was so much easier but emotionally I was a mess.  Still am.

I ended up staying in the hospital until Saturday afternoon.  5 days.  Originally it should have only been 1 or 2. 

Thank you to everyone for all the flowers I received.  They all are so different and so beautiful, my house smells like a florist shop.

 I am getting around ok. No lifting more than 10 pounds, can't raise my arm more than 45 degrees plus I get to start doing fancy arm exercises soon.  Physically doing great.  My wonderful mother is still taking care of the household.  The house has never looked better or been cleaner.  She is even getting Gage on a schedule and he is SO much happier!

Ryan has become my nurse.  Changing my bandages, cleaning and draining the fluids from the drain tube, and wrapping me. All while wiping away my tears. 

I haven't brought myself to look at the incision.  But he tells me it looks like the Nike swoosh. 

And he still tells me I am beautiful.