Wow! It has been a while, hasn't it? Here I am, sitting and relaxing on this fine, quiet Labor Day and twisting uncomfortably in my sports bra that MUST be worn for another 2 weeks (minus the shower time and perhaps an hour in the evening to catch a breather from it), and I realize that I have created not one blog about my final surgery.
I HAVE MY FOOBS! I know, funny name, but it is comic relief to help get through the moments of tragedy, sadness, renewal, and trying to adjust to a new shape....well the shape of me is ever changing and in need of more work, but that will only come once I can really get back to the grindstone of working out. For now I must take it easy to let my body recouperate and heal after my latest surgery.
August 12 was the day. Up early, daughter to daycare a bit earlier than normal, and off to the surgical center. It all seemed so uneventful, very different from my first surgery...the bilateral mastectomy. That time it was a deep, painful IV in my wrist, nerves from hell trying to prepare for two rather large parts of my body being removed, trying to make eye contact with ANYONE at the hospital who would give me the look that all would be ok, it wouldn't last long, I would wake up and be just fine......wishful thinking....medical providers are trained not to let things, or patients, get to them. This time, though, I only had a few people to talk to before going to the OR, and this time I walked on my own into the room. There was no wheeling me on some big bed, banging into wall corners....nope...I met my OR nurse who spoke so sweetly, and not the fake sweet, then walked with me, linking arms with me, right into the OR where I was introduced to the OR tech. My anesthesiologist was there a moment later ( I had met and spoken with him a little earlier) and put the IV in a NORMAL part of my arm. And something new, I did not need to have an air tube inserted. I was able to breathe on my own through my surgery, as these providers tend to like it this way in shorter surgeries to monitor how a patient is doing. I LIKED THAT. Breathing tubes only cause sore throats on top of everything else from surgery, and this time I only had dry mouth from the oxygen that was somewhere near my nose and mouth.
An hour and a half and I was done. I woke up in a curtained recovery area where I stayed for a short while, trying to get my bearings. I got dressed and sat in the chair next to the bed, sipped a little apple juice and was then treated to crackers and a raspberry popsicle. Within about and hour and a half after my surgery was complete, I was able to go home. I don't remember the ride home so much, except my husband telling me about the Farmer's Market we were passing by, but then I was stretched out on the couch where I stayed for just a few short days.
This time there were no drains to pull out, to measure, to record. I had my chest wrapped with a large ace bandage that covered the incisions, so I couldn't see much, but within just two days of surgery the ace came off and it was strictly home care from then on.
Now, four weeks later, I sit here, a better size, and healthier than I was at the beginning of this year, and I CAN'T WAIT to get out of this thing. I got spoiled not having to wear a bra after my first surgery but for the past 4 weeks I've been couped up in this thing.....UGH!
I'm reminded of how I used to feel about women I would see wondering around town or campus my first time 'round in college, and I thought...ewww, gross. Of course, I wouldn't the girls to hang so freely if I was still so large as I was just a few months ago. But NOW....I don't like the confining feeling. Maybe it's just the issue of the sports bra. I hope it's not being ungrateful for the new lease on life I have been given and the need I have to take new care of the "new girls", my foobs, but I don't think so.
So yes, I have had my final surgery, may have to go back in only for a cosmetic "retouch", but I'm done. There are times I sit here and wonder if I am going to get used to the twinges or if I am going to grow out of them. Phantom pain? Perhaps. Nerves trying to figure out what the hell has been going on? Yeah, probably. Sometimes I think maybe I would have been better without all the reconstruction, but then again, I can't imagine what it would have been like going from very large to flat in one fell swoop. Yeah, there are prosthetics, but I don't think I could handle all that for myself. I applaud women at every stage and admire the will to fight and go on and do what they do, what we do, to make life normal again. Afterall, life changed drastically with one diagnosis, and all that followed has just been a means to get back to something resembling health and familiarity of life.
I HAVE MY FOOBS! I know, funny name, but it is comic relief to help get through the moments of tragedy, sadness, renewal, and trying to adjust to a new shape....well the shape of me is ever changing and in need of more work, but that will only come once I can really get back to the grindstone of working out. For now I must take it easy to let my body recouperate and heal after my latest surgery.
August 12 was the day. Up early, daughter to daycare a bit earlier than normal, and off to the surgical center. It all seemed so uneventful, very different from my first surgery...the bilateral mastectomy. That time it was a deep, painful IV in my wrist, nerves from hell trying to prepare for two rather large parts of my body being removed, trying to make eye contact with ANYONE at the hospital who would give me the look that all would be ok, it wouldn't last long, I would wake up and be just fine......wishful thinking....medical providers are trained not to let things, or patients, get to them. This time, though, I only had a few people to talk to before going to the OR, and this time I walked on my own into the room. There was no wheeling me on some big bed, banging into wall corners....nope...I met my OR nurse who spoke so sweetly, and not the fake sweet, then walked with me, linking arms with me, right into the OR where I was introduced to the OR tech. My anesthesiologist was there a moment later ( I had met and spoken with him a little earlier) and put the IV in a NORMAL part of my arm. And something new, I did not need to have an air tube inserted. I was able to breathe on my own through my surgery, as these providers tend to like it this way in shorter surgeries to monitor how a patient is doing. I LIKED THAT. Breathing tubes only cause sore throats on top of everything else from surgery, and this time I only had dry mouth from the oxygen that was somewhere near my nose and mouth.
An hour and a half and I was done. I woke up in a curtained recovery area where I stayed for a short while, trying to get my bearings. I got dressed and sat in the chair next to the bed, sipped a little apple juice and was then treated to crackers and a raspberry popsicle. Within about and hour and a half after my surgery was complete, I was able to go home. I don't remember the ride home so much, except my husband telling me about the Farmer's Market we were passing by, but then I was stretched out on the couch where I stayed for just a few short days.
This time there were no drains to pull out, to measure, to record. I had my chest wrapped with a large ace bandage that covered the incisions, so I couldn't see much, but within just two days of surgery the ace came off and it was strictly home care from then on.
Now, four weeks later, I sit here, a better size, and healthier than I was at the beginning of this year, and I CAN'T WAIT to get out of this thing. I got spoiled not having to wear a bra after my first surgery but for the past 4 weeks I've been couped up in this thing.....UGH!
I'm reminded of how I used to feel about women I would see wondering around town or campus my first time 'round in college, and I thought...ewww, gross. Of course, I wouldn't the girls to hang so freely if I was still so large as I was just a few months ago. But NOW....I don't like the confining feeling. Maybe it's just the issue of the sports bra. I hope it's not being ungrateful for the new lease on life I have been given and the need I have to take new care of the "new girls", my foobs, but I don't think so.
So yes, I have had my final surgery, may have to go back in only for a cosmetic "retouch", but I'm done. There are times I sit here and wonder if I am going to get used to the twinges or if I am going to grow out of them. Phantom pain? Perhaps. Nerves trying to figure out what the hell has been going on? Yeah, probably. Sometimes I think maybe I would have been better without all the reconstruction, but then again, I can't imagine what it would have been like going from very large to flat in one fell swoop. Yeah, there are prosthetics, but I don't think I could handle all that for myself. I applaud women at every stage and admire the will to fight and go on and do what they do, what we do, to make life normal again. Afterall, life changed drastically with one diagnosis, and all that followed has just been a means to get back to something resembling health and familiarity of life.
Oh yeah, and the hair is growing back.
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