Aug 14, 2012 - Day # 7 - Metamucil (Post 1) ; Tantrum (Post 2)

Day 7: If how many pillows you sleep with are a testament to how you feel, I'm improving some. What was 14 became 11 down to 5 last night with me actually laying flat (see previous posts). However my back is paying for it today. I think all of this walking around like a zombie trying to keep everything still is paying off for the chest area, but creating chaos for the rest of my body.

Today, I am dangerously close to running out of pain medications before my next appointment tomorrow. So I am rationing and bargaining with myself. If I drink my glass of Metamucil (what, too much information?) I get a pain tablet. If I walk around the block, I get a pain tablet. Tomorrow, I will resupply my stock. Certainly, I didn't expect to need them this far out, but I'm an idiot and thought a double mastectomy was easy cheesy. I was very wrong!  I am far from healed. Super far. 

Today, Ron went back to work for an afternoon meeting. That leaves mom and I here to chart the course. Makes us reminisce a tad since she and I were the ones who first chartered this territory 21 years ago when I was diagnosed with lymphoma. We spent many an afternoon doing exactly what I am doing right now...last time we were lounging and watching day time TV after abdominal surgery and radiation. This time, 21 years later with me now married, a mastectomy. Who would have thought the former would lead to the latter so many years later. She's quite adorable. She won't let me move an inch without her assistance. If I even pretend to need something, she is up like a jack rabbit to get there first. Maybe I could make a game out of this for some entertainment.  

We are moving into the 24 hours I have been dreading so much. Two appts tomorrow afternoon. The first is with Lead Breast Surgeon, whom I adore. We email each other updates and now she is even signing her emails with "xoxo". I think we have long crossed the professional boundaries usually in place. It's only fair. I think once you see someone at their worst, it's hard to stay super professional. I'm spoiled by her greatness. She will be assessing the would healing. Because I had so much radiation to my chest 20 yrs ago, statics show I'm going to have considerably slow would healing. While the radiation is what made me super high risk for breast cancer in the first place, it also made me a less than ideal candidate for mastectomy or breast cancer treatment. And a worse candidate for reconstruction. It is thought that the the chest wall and skin were compromised by the radiation and therefore, I will take longer than average to heal. This is why we delayed reconstruction instead of doing the mastectomy and reconstruction in the same surgery like so many others do.  So tomorrow, she will check the healing time and see if we can take the drains out. I'm terrified of having them removed- because I can't imagine that ill be a pleasant experience removing them. While they need to come out, and I will be a lot more comfortable after the fact, the actual process of removing them makes me hyperventilate. Literally! Huge massive amounts of anxiety. I can do all things through Christ...except this! Wowsers. Now you see the weakness in my strength and faith. I'm terrified. Our other big concern is restoring blood flow to the tissue left behind. Please pray I have blood flow!! If not, we may be looking at needing a tissue graft. Breathe in , breathe out. Too much "what ifs" right now for my mental state. Let's move on. After my appt with the breast surgeon, I will meet with the plastic surgeon to discuss the next steps. We have a temporary plan for placing either implants or extenders starting on Monday at the earliest. (I'd you had asked me two months ago if I would ever have breast augmentation or implants I would have laughed in your face. Now i see everything is relative). Now the worry here is that because of the radiation I'm going to be at high risk for my body rejecting the implant and covering it with scar tissue. So we have to go slow in the reconstruction process. Lead Plastic Surgeon wanted me to wait six months before starting anything, but I guess I'm a little more vain than I once thought. Six months seemed like an eternity. So we are negotiating as we go. I will see what he says tomorrow when I meet with him after my appointment with Lead Breast Surgeon.

I'm learning about the marriage vow "in sickness and in health". Ron should be ready soon to teach classes to any husbands out there that may need some training. He is spectacular at this stuff! Emptying nasty drains, sponge baths, patience, wiping tears, suffering through moodiness, muscle massages....all on little sleep and tense environments. I rewarded him by sending him to work today. He is a man who God has transitioned into a servant with a servant heart. And boy has that served me well. I've got the best husband out there and I want to shout it from the roof tops. Back when I was really worried about how this surgery was going to affect us, he was 100% in favor of me doing what was best for our health. That spoke volumes to me about his Godly character. Now, I need to get one of your husbands to take him out for dinner to give him a break from all of this femaleness. Seven days of starring at these walls. Guess that is one silver lining of having an appointment tomorrow. New walls.  And contact with people who don't live inside my TV screen.  But how awful is that car ride going to be? Breathe in, breathe out. Time for Metamucil. _________________________________________________________________________________

I'm making a difference. See, every journey has it's purpose we just have to wait it out. Even if one life is changed or impacted, our purpuse is served. Often the difference is not for ourselves, but for someone on the periphery. Someone you wouldn't even imagine would be impacted. (Tears streaming down my face as I type this). "Take the boobs, Lord, if it leads to a changed life, a changed heart, a changed medical practice, empathy, a better relationship...". I promise that makes all if this with it. So many of you have emailed me to keep the posts coming because it's impacting your day. I was simply trying to get the benefit of 100+ psychiatrists without paying the bill. But hey, if it helps you too. Let's go for it!

 Ok, so there is my new focus. 100% transparency for my own processing, but also because so many of you have contacted me as to how my transparency is helping your own journey. Well, perfect timing ladies, because today of all days, I am a wreck! Poor Ron and mom had to suffer through it last night. I was a three year old in the midst of a tantrum, an inconsolable 37 year old frustrated female. It was awful on my own account. Don't get me wrong, I fully trust God and his plan, but sometimes the "going through it" just catches up with your emotions. He gives us emotions for a reason, they are very therapeutic, but boy did mine go haywire.

 Flash back to yesterday afternoon when I was feeling so great. Great wasn't something I had felt in seven days. Very far from great. So when there was a single flash of me feeling decent I latched on to it with a grip of an iron man. I was up and about. I visited with a friend who came by, I took a long walk, I watched my mom vacuum (hey, it took some effort instructing her) and I took in all the sights of my living-room. Reminder, I was running low on pain medications so I also spent the day rationing. Well, at about 6:30 all of that came to a very noisy, out of character, unexpected, run as fast as you can, call in the reinforcement screeching halt. And I balled. I yelled. I balled again. I balled some more. They put me to bed where I just collapsed in an emotional pool of slobber. It was awful.....but I think it was a little overdue.

 Now in all fairness, let's go back and dissect the moment. My afternoon was great. I hurt, maybe a 4/10 pain, but for all purposes I felt decent compartively. I had not felt decent in a solid week. I found a euphoria. And I think I put every mental penny I had into that euphoria thinking I had won. I had made it through the tough stage. White flags being thrown by all involved. The gold metal was mine. Well let me tell you, Victory is short my friend, or at least premature. I bent over to get in the chair and a shooting pain consumed that victory. I got up because standing seems to be more comfortable these days and went to help/watch dinner preparations and it was exhausting. I went to go walk in the front yard - my favorite activity these days, and what I look forward to from the time I get up and even that was awful. It was humid and hot and my old knee injury was throbbing. I started thinking to today's appointment and the euphoria just came crashing down. I was terrified of the poking. I mentally hyperventilate thinking of taking this surgical vest off to see what is underneath as I've had a glimpse and let me tell you, it is the most awful sight that will send you to heaving! I was mentally and physically over having all this pain. I was frustrated beyond measure for not being able to even bathe myself and quite frankly I just needed a reach down into my core for a boo hoo cry. Well, I got it and so did the whole city  by the time I was done. Ron gathered me up without batting an eye and took me for my "BATH", if you could call it that. When I got in my one inch of water I balled some more (I WON'T go in to detail of how I got stuck in the tub). He got me up and out and took me to the dining-room for emptying my drains (again) where I boo hooed some more. The pain was back full force and an awful reminder that this isn't over. Some more crying with my mom about these stupid scars and my fears of this appointment, and I finally topped it off with a big old heart sob on my 14 pillow high throne with all my servants standing in awe. They looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I had officially lost it. Then..... sleep. One of the best sleeps I remember in seven whole days. I was exhausted. I was spent. I was done. Fast forward 10 hours. Rise and shine! I'm up and ready for this appointment at 1:30. Sort of.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Surely I can do this. Please let there be sufficient blood flow to the tissue. Please let them pull the drains. Please let them knock me out BEFORE they pull the drains. Please don't let me see the chest wall when they open the vest. Please let this be the fastest 5 hours I've ever experienced. Please don't let me run into my colleagues in the cancer center. Please let me function like a normal person. Please don't let the Metamucil kick in today. No worries, I'm 100% ok. Just some anxiety in a few areas. Remember, I promised you transparency. Stay tuned.