Four weeks

According to my discharge instructions: no running, biking, swimming, yoga, or Pilates for 4 weeks. 

I can feel the "sloshing" of the saline today when I bend over. That's good, must mean the swelling has gone down. I  had forgotten how the edges of the expander go almost into the armpit. Everything is looking good! Showered today and I don't think I got the little foam disc wet. They put that disc around the drain tube where it comes out of my skin. It covers the stitches holding the tube in place. I usually get it wet and then have to remove it. Then comes the covering the area with gauze squares and skin irritating tape. So far so good. Drain? I got this!😄

Surgery

Yesterday was pretty routine. We had to park in the ramp and that always causes stress. ;-)

Then the mad rush down the hallways to the cancer center surgical area. Signed the consent and then was taken back to my cubicle/room to put in the gown and get settled in. It's funny that I've been there so often that I recognize some of the nurses.

The nurse started the IV in a vein in my hand. They usually inject lidocaine first to numb the area & the lidocaine stings. That nurse was good! I don't even have a bruise today!

I saw the anesthesiologist who talked fast and with a foreign accent. The nurse anesthetist, surgical nurse, & doctor all came in to say hi. I got my prep nurse to give me an Emend tablet to help prevent nausea.

This time I was wide awake when they wheeled me into the OR and positioned me on the table. Then I was in recovery and then back to my cubicle/room to eat cookies, drink Coke, and get dressed.

Waiting to leave...

Wellbutrin

While I'm awake I thought I'd mention that PC doc put me on Wellbutrin in addition to the Ativan and Effexor. I stopped taking it last week. The side effects were terrible. Dry mouth and memory problems. The memory issue was the worst! I'd be talking and suddenly not be able to think of the words I wanted to use or I'd completely forget what I was talking about in the middle of a sentence. Scary! 😬

Awake at 5am

Just woke up and emptied my drain again. The doctor told me she'd use a smaller sized drain this time. We'll see how that goes...maybe less irritating & less painful??

I was having weird dreams. Probably the Norco. Just took two more pills & I'm going to eat some crackers and pretzels. Earlier I think I caught my "nurse" trying to lick the pretzels. She may have succeeded but oh well...:)

Another pair of socks...

I'm happy that I'm spending tonight in my own bed with only my feline nurses waking me up! No BP checks. No alarms going off. No IV drip. Just the "how bad is your pain, 1-10?" test as Nurse Callie walks on me. More later...

Pain test with the "nurse"

My 5th or 6th pair of puke brown hospital socks.

I really like this...

http://lisabadams.com/2014/10/22/things-tied-pink-ribbon-breast-cancer-done/

I wish I had the energy of my youth.
I wish I had the body.
I wish I had the fearlessness, the spunk, the drive.

I wish I could have a conversation with that young girl,
bright-eyed and full of wonder.
I wish I could tell her what lay ahead.

I wish I could tell her to gather strength, and wisdom, and patience like a squirrel gathering acorns for the winter.
“Save those things up,” I’d say, “you are going to need them… every last bit.”
I wish I could share the perspective I’ve gained along with all of the love.

But I can’t go back to that time,
I can’t go back to that place.
I can’t rewrite what’s happened,
I can’t do it all again.

My first diagnosis with breast cancer took its toll on me and I was quite sure I would never, ever be the same.
I had no way to know then that “never, ever the same” would mean something worse, something fateful, a juggernaut.

I told myself “they’re only breasts.”
I said, “I don’t need ovaries, I’m done having children.”
But that obscured the truth.
The truth is that it did matter,
They do matter.
They said my uterus was atrophied.
It almost sounded funny when they said it.

“Who cares? What does that matter?”
It did. It does. It will.
At the time, to get rid of all hormones was thought to give me a better chance at avoiding a recurrence, but there was a price to be paid.
No estrogen mattered more than I ever thought it could.

It felt worse than taking injections to suppress my ovaries, worse than taking Tamoxifen.
Those were easy.
I had no clue what was ahead.

I wore the skirt, I put the makeup on, I walked the walk.
But I did not feel like a woman anymore.
I most certainly do not feel like much of one now.

Make no mistake, I am proud of what this body has done for me.
My three children top the list.
But now I must focus on some of its cells,
now malignant,
throughout this body,
growing at a horrific pace.

My body has now become a personal science experiment.

Sometimes, when things are going well, you could look at me and have no earthly clue.
You see,
Beneath the pretty lies ugly,
the ugly truth of cancer
and what it has taken from me.

While some may be able to go on,
move on,
forget,
I cannot.
My body will not let me.

These things are not tied with a pink ribbon.

These things last longer than a month.
This is part of awareness.

This is just a part of what breast cancer can do.
This is just a part of what breast cancer has done to me.

This is part of what can happen
Even with early detection and treatment.
This is what can happen even years later.
This is why people should not prematurely claim victory.

This is why you are not necessarily safe.
This is what breast cancer could do to you.

This is how what some think they have “beaten”or “bid goodbye to” can still
kill.

This is what it will do to me.

--Lisa Bonchek Adams

Lisa Bonchek Adams

I followed her on Twitter. It was a shock to hear of her death.

http://lisabadams.com/2015/03/07/in-memorium/