I just snuck out of the house. Ron was working at the breakfast table and I pretended to head to the bathroom and Shazam! Out the front door I went! You can blame my mom. She's free spirited like that. I just got off the phone with her and she planted the seed asking me if I had been walking yet. She's know how much I detest being stuck in this house for days on end. (Yes, ladies, I know you love having some time not at work and at home alone without kids, and errands, and stuff, but there is a huge difference when you HAVE to be at home). Yesterday, I tried to walk, but it was so hot and humid. And when I mean walk, I mean like to the mailbox and back all of 30 feet. But I knew Lead Plastic Surgeon would kick my hiney if I sweated with these stitches in and a drain still in place. So I abandoned ship at the front door. But today, while on the phone with mom I saw the overcast skies and knew today would be my chance! I hung up the phone and sleuthed my way down the front hall way quiet as a mouse to the front door, Pushed it open, and there it was....my escape! Full disclosure, I walked maybe 40 feet and at all times was in my yard, but it felt like I was in Nantucket headed for a picnic with a blanket and cheese and crackers. The breeze in my hair! And I admit I broke out in a little hip jive at my feat! Sorry to Mr. Stay At Home Dad who so unfortunately timed his drive by in the minivan right when I gave the little hip jive to the side to the fake music in my head. Your kids are probably scarred for life at that sight! Picture Elaine/Seinfield. Enough said. Thanks mom for planting the seed. I shall repeat the escape tonight and this time I will take Ron for a longer stroll. I may just add 10 more feet and bring real music. These escapes keep you sane. Or at least bring you sanity for 10 minutes and sometimes that is all you need. Mastectomy tip #165. Find a way to get outside, even if it is to a chair on the back patio.
I'm having a great day. And that makes me a little "high" on life. Gone is the nausea and dry heaving and I welcome in a little boost of energy. In mastectomy, as with any event that lasts more than a day, you find you sort days into simply "good" or "bad". This is because every day has a little good, and every day has a little bad, so you find the trend of the events of the day and then place the day on the scale for final categorization. If you spend more of your day on the success side, it is good. If you spend more of the day moody/nauseated/in pain, it is bad. Simple calculations. I'm not keeping count, but I have had only 1 bad day since surgery. This hasn't happened before and it is well worth high-fiving over. And today, I am going to open up the option of "great". Whoa, step back! Sally has lost her mind! No m'am, I am just playing the optimistic card. I usually reserve the "great" categorization for much further out, but this drain (Sir Gregory) has changed my world! He simply co-exists with me. Not friend. Not foe. And believe me when I tell you that this is life changing when it comes to breast drains. Nobel peace prize kind of stuff. Yesterday, he only sucked out of me 10 ml of fluid. He's simply doing his job and leaving me be. And for that, I am opening up "great"! I also showered yesterday. Sort of by myself. As in I stood in the shower, and Ron stood outside the curtain handing me stuff back and forth. Soap, wash cloth, accolades of "you rock!". No tears. All success! He did have to pat me dry and dress me since I can't bend and reach very well. You should see the calamity of trying to get a sports bra on when you can't raise your arms. Lucy and Ethel have nothing on Ron and I in those moments. Contorted this way and that and then getting it on only to see the front is really the side and all sorts of mishap. But we find our groove and manage to get both boobs squished into place with minimal pain or words of vain. But one step closer to independence. See, it was a very good day. And today, God is sending me thunderstorms according to my weather app. It really can't get any better.
Sleeping is a little bit of a challenge. I am a side/stomach/side/stomach sleeper. I am basically all over the place in the course of a night. But with mastectomy surgery. Your only option is on your back. You may have the luxury of choosing flat or elevated, but the back is where it is...for many months to come. Sometimes you just need a little side roll. And little snuggles with the side of your face on the pillow. And clutching of the knees up to the chest and the blanket tucking you all in. You get to where you crave that. And you loath that you can't do that. It is kind of like where you only crave chick-fil-a on Sundays. The only day they are closed. But worse. Last night, I got very creative, though unsuccessful in my attempt to fake my mind into thinking I was on my side. I shoved a pillow up on my left side so I could pretend it was the mattress. And I turned my head to the left to feel my face on the pillow case. It was a miserable substitution, but just another glimpse in this world. Side sleepers unite! I definitely don't take it for granted.
I've been off pain meds now for almost 36 hours. It helps not having the "fog" that comes with that. And the pain really is quite minimal this go round. Again, likely due to the location of the incision and not having nerve endings in that area of the breast. Lead Plastic Surgeon evidently noted that while he was removing the scar tissue. While he had to take out more than he anticipated, the lack of nerve ending helped me out. That's an interesting "tidbid" in mastectomy. When the breast surgeon removes the breast tissue along with that goes the nerves, the blood supply, the fat, the everything. Everything between the skin surface down to the pectoral muscle. So you are left with virtually no sensations in the breast at all. That's good when it comes to pain perception. Bad when it comes to other things. It's almost like a phantom limb. Sometimes you itch, but it is an itch you can't scratch. And sometimes you have severe pain, but the pain is hard to get to. Hopefully, over time, some of the nerves repopulate the area. Sometimes they don't. It's more of an issue with blood vessels as you really need to have blood supply to the area to support the skin left over and such. No blood, can mean cell death. I say all of that as background that it is a blessing that I don't have nerve endings in this case because it really helps with the pain control. I have an incision I virtually can't feel. Instead what I feel is bruising more along the under fold of the breast. And this makes sense because that is where I start to have feeling again. And this is where he dug out most of the scar tissue. And then there is a feeling of "fullness" where there is swelling under the skin due to the manipulation. Ok, science class over, but maybe some of you like this type of information. Makes the pieces fit together a little easier.
The thunderstorm is almost here. I'm feeling a little giddy. I'm taking myself to press my face to the window. I will be there for a while. Ron has to go to the store today. I may try and con him into letting me be the chocolate lab hanging out the back window. Whoa, I am really breaking all kinds of boundaries. Thanks, mom.
