Sept 11, 2012 - Day # 34 - Ut oh, there's a spot.

Day 33:  So there is this spot. This can't get it out of your mind spot. Not a big spot. Just a spot. You know when you go to dinner (mom, I hope you are reading this) and you look down on your freshly pressed white silk blouse to see a dropping of the most delicious lasagna you've ever treated your taste buds to? Gone, now, is the culinary amazingness of the lasagna you were just inhaling. You are looking at your friend across the table who was just telling you about her heart retching break up with Patrick. Two minutes ago you were hanging on her every word and offering condolences. "Beth, he was dog meat! Not worth a second minute of thought." Hoping she buys your story cause he really was delightful and he will be missed. Now you stare at her and all you see are lips moving. You thinking: Do you think the waiter sees this spot? How in the world am I going to get this out? Where is my Shoutastic pen? Really, I don't even remember dropping anything. I was so careful! Was this blouse on sale? I just got it!!! Maybe if I fold my arms just so....

"Sally, are you listening to me? PATRICK, just broke up with me!" Shock back to reality. A spot on a brand new shirt can consume your every thought (if you are a woman).  "Beth, do you see a spot on my shirt?"

Well, I have an all consuming spot, but instead of it finding itself on my freshly pressed white silk blouse, it has landed itself on my brand spanking, newly fabricated, Smooth Round High Profile gel filled Impostor right Boob!!! (see previous post titled "Card Carrying Member".) Yesterday, when I was changing my clothes, I did a quick glance down. The surgeon wants us to look at both impostors regularly to search for changes- redness, swelling, bruising, change in size -oh there has been a change in size!- and so on. So, yesterday, I noticed this black scaling spot on my right boob strategically placed in an area I don't want it to be.

Sally from bathroom stage left: "Ron, come here and bring a flashlight!" I had Ron and my sister bring a flashlight once before back in August, so he knows this can't be good.

Enter Ron from bedroom stage left:  "What's up babe?"

Sally with a slightly worried look on her face: "I need to you look at this spot, cause you know I can't go to the mirror and do it myself."

Sally stepping into medical mode: "Describe it to me."

Ron holding flashlight and kneeling before Sally in full investigator mode: "It's a black spot. Sort of like a scab, a tad smaller than an eraser, right in the middle of your Nipple (can I say that here?)"

Audience (Oliver the cat) trying desperately to help out: Meow!

Sally, trying to maintain composure: "It is bleeding? Or is it dried blood maybe?"

Ron leaning in for a closer look, glasses pulled down to tip of nose: "Not bleeding now, it's black, and maybe was once blood? Let me get a wet q tip and see if we can dissolve it, then we will know if it is blood."

Sally shifting back and forth on the stool at sight of Q tip coming toward her, now tightly closing eyes: "Ok, but you know I have lost all medical tolerance since August, so GO EASY!"

(30 second time lapse)

Sally with eyes cinched tight: "well are you going to scrub it or what?"

Ron: "Already did, why are you sitting there with your eyes closed? Unfortunately, Nothing came off."

(conversation above only slightly paraphrased)

I had forgotten that I had no feeling in that area of the Impostor so I had no idea he had been working away at the spot the whole time. Open my eyes and start brainstorming. It's likely not blood if it didn't dissolve in water. Could I have nicked my boob on something and not known it since I can't feel the boob itself? And how does one exactly nick a boob? Especially since I don't walk around with a shirt off. Do you think I would NOT notice running head on into a knife? Or NOT notice a falling scalpel from the sky that landed right in the middle of my chest? Not likely. Maybe it's chaffed skin from the tshirt rubbing on it all day long for 33 days straight? Could it be necrosis/dying tissue?

Please, oh please, don't let it be dying tissue. This is what the surgeon was so worried about from the get go. Because of all of the chest radiation in days gone by (see previous post titled "How this all came about") he felt sure I was going to have delayed healing and possibly lack of proper blood flow to the new tissue and skin. If that happened, the skin may start to die thus leading to another procedure and skin graft. But at my last appointment he told me we have most likley passed the worry point for dying tissue. I was good to go!

Surely, it's just dried on....something. Anything! I will take a dried on anything for it not to be dying skin. I am desperately not wanting to lose tissue after we have come so far. This morning, I looked again by glancing down and see there is now some additional scaling appearance in the skin around the area. So maybe this is a top layer of skin sloughing off? We lose skin every day, right? Eeek.

The Good news:
  • The spot itself is super small.
  • It just showed up yesterday.
  • It's only on one side.
  • The skin around it that is sloughing looks very superficial.
  • It adds character...maybe like a beauty mark? (ok, so I'm stretching it a bit there).

Because of God's timing, I already have an appointment with Lead Plastic Surgeon tomorrow afternoon. Perfect Timing as always. Now we just put it out of our mind and wait and see. But I wouldn't mind one bit if you add this little spot to your prayer list for today. I'm only slightly concerned. (That sounds believable when I type it. shallow breathing). Will update you tomorrow.

Funny story to add to this since we are talking about numb boobs. A friend of a friend had a mastectomy and reconstruction. Several months later her husband took her out to dinner. She ordered the yummy soup. Dinner arrived and they started eating and chatting about their day. Husband: "Um, honey, your boob is sitting in your soup bowl." She had been leaning over the table to sip out of the bowl and couldn't feel that she was actually leaning INTO the bowl. Can you imagine the laughter at that table? If you can't laugh, what can you do?