I'm 15 days post surgery. Therefore the calendar tells me recovery is done. I don't know who sets these recovery parameters. I feel sure it is a group of people who haven't actually had the surgery. Post mastectomy itself- one night in the hospital and 10 days of recovery. Post initial reconstruction- no days in the hospital, 4 weeks of recover. Post cellulitis surgery - well, I didn't follow the projected course and instead had 3 days in the hospital and 3 weeks of IV antibiotics dictating my recovery. Post lipografting - no days in the hospital and 1 week recovery. Post breast tuck for slipped implant- no days on the hospital and 5 days recovery. And now after scar removal surgery - no days in the hospital and 2 weeks recovery. I head back to work full-time tomorrow. Every single surgery previous, I went back to work too soon. But now because of so many of you, I think I am heading back at maybe the right time. You prayed me to a drain that virtually I didn't even feel. I KNOW what horrible days a drain can bring, and this go round it was as if the drain was meant to be there. Score 1 on your behalf. Also missing was the ongoing drunken anesthesia response. From day one I have felt together, coherent, and upright. Score 2 on your behalf. Early on I had to come off pain medications (I'm allergic, and it instilled overwhelming nausea and vomiting), yet my pain score stayed below a 2 the entire recovery without meds. Score 3 on your behalf. Truly, virtually my only worry this time around was the nausea/vomiting. It was bad enough to make up for some of the rest, but I can't even begin to imagine if that were here with pain from the drain and incision and me being in anesthesia drunken state. And I can't hold you accountable (smile) for the nausea, because we didn't know to pray for that in advance. But I very purposely made requests to you for these 3 items (pain, drain, anesthesia) and you brought me through with flying colors! We don't celebrate answered prayer nearly often enough. Too often we chalk it up to coincidence, or our own doing, or aligned stars, but it is so evident here the cause and effect...your prayers, and for that I'm so grateful I serve a mighty God. It's all too easy to blame him when things don't go our way. Or hate him when something occurs that we don't understand as if he owes it to us explanations. "If God were small enough for us to understand, he wouldn't be big enough to be worshiped." Plain and simple, God is not my puppet for me to mandate outcomes. He is so far above me and set apart from us that he only deserves awe, respect, and worship. And because you went to him on my behalf, he brought me blessings. So thank you for that faithfulness. And where things continue to be a struggle, I figure he must have some purpose for me through that and he is still worthy of great praise. I'm finally figuring out that my happiness is not his goal, but rather my obedience to his purpose and through that the joy that comes to me. So I endured a little nausea and now am waiting to regain stamina, but evident is Him though this all as he is growing me in wisdom and faith. I was so very much dreading surgery #6, and yet it grew me in so many ways as I once again learned that sometimes in the undesired he brings a greater purpose. And I'm better on the other side through it.
I'm still stitched, glued, and steri-stripped under this tshirt, but I've graduated away from the sports bra (hello flimsy impostor bra lacking underwire and therefore virtually not worth it's presence) and the drain is long gone. I can successfully shower 100% alone and can get all articles of clothing back on without assistance (don't under estimate the power of those two things). I can have Ron inspect the incision each day without a single tear (he has to do that because I can't feel pain due to my lack of nerve endings, so I wouldn't know if there were a problem. After the first reconstruction surgery, I went a full week without knowing there was an open sore at the base of my incision until the surgeon found it at a post-op appt). I have successfully worn non-pajama clothing, applied makeup, and styled my hair on my own once as of last night. And though I can only stand for short periods of time, I was out of my house for 3 full hours yesterday (mostly spent sitting but hey it's an achievement) and didn't collapse in a puddle of exhaustion. So yes, the time is here to reintroduce myself back into my life. It's a tad scary, those first few days, but it is the sure way to bring normalcy back to mastectomy. My routine changes my mindset and my return to a full work days gives me the time stamp of "done". But if you see me at work tomorrow, please note, that look of pallor on my face and shuffle in my step have come along way and "disheveled" is still a fashion style which successfully hides stitches and glue underneath.
A few of my favorite moments:
- Ron and I almost putting the sports bra on backwards. I will let you bring your own mental image of how hysterical that looks. And daily watching Ron in bewilderment helping me figure those things out.
- My "in laws" surprising me at the hospital on surgery day. I don't underestimate the kindness in that moment.
- My laying naked on the bottom of the tub with a puke bucket in hand and a drain tube coming out of my chest and Ron and I finding a way to laugh as we had to figure out how to get OUT of the deep garden tub.
- Me singing with the anesthesia resident (ok me singing and her laughing) while she was trying to get me under.
- Meeting my sister and parents out for lunch. I felt like crap, but seeing them standing there in excitement of seeing me made me cry there in the middle of the restaurant.
- The two friends that brought me dinner to help Ron out when their lives are just as busy mine. And the two friends who texted me almost daily to boost my spirits because they knew I detested isolation.
- The first time I went out alone to the car to drive, and got in the passenger seat first. I'm not the brightest bulb in the pack.
- Ron walking in the room the very moment I am shoving wool socks in my bra.
- Ron "fixing" my hair after a shower and pridefully telling my sister he ironed my hair. What a gem.
- One friend sending me a card a day outlining her life that week, including her daughter's breakup on the first day of school and her son's college class dramas. It was like watching a miniseries and I adored it.
- Seeing "Ms. Hattie" at my post op appointment and it reminding myself this story is so much bigger than me.
The silver linings are always there, you just have to train yourself to look for them. And once found, it makes the "horrible" quite far from so.
With all my gratitude for each of you,
Sally
