The Surgery

Please note this is being written multiple days after surgery and is based upon what I can remember myself and what I was told. It may not be entirely accurate. 

 On Tuesday, September 3, 2024, my life changed forever. 

My wonderful husband, Jeff, indulged me in an amazing shower knowing it would likely be the last one I could take alone for awhile. And boy did I linger. I relished being able to lift my arms up to wash my own hair. I shaved my legs and felt a sense of satisfaction being able to do something normal for the last time for awhile.

Getting dressed required some thought as to what I would be able to do after surgery. I couldn't just get dressed in any old clothes because I would have some limitations in the use of my arms after the surgery. I recognize that some women always take a lot of care in what they wear. I would say about 50% of the time, that was me. But now, it needs to be 100%, at least until I have my full range of motion back and I'm fully healed up. So we dressed me in comfortable pajama bottoms that I bought in Myrtle Beach and one of my mastectomy tops because it had pockets sewn into the inside for the drains I knew I'd be getting later that day. Combed my super short hair and put on my "This is my Fight Hat" cap and off we went.

The drive to the hospital was surreal because I knew when I drove away from there, I would be different. Changed. Marked if you will. As a survivor of sexual abuse and a bariatric patient, body image has always been a tough one for me. Jeff has said in the last year, since losing weight due to my surgery, he has seen a confidence in me regarding my body that hasn't really always been there. (I'd say I had it for maybe 2-3 years after our youngest was born, before my teaching career really took off. I'd lost a ton of weight on my own and if I do say so myself, I looked awesome.) 

When we arrived, we went to the valet parking since it would be free for us due to surgery. We got inside the hospital and got directed to the correct spot. And then we waited. A nice woman came out and asked me if I was interested in being part of a research study for breast cancer. As an academic myself, of course I said yes. Maybe at some point, my samples can help someone else. And for me, that's really what this journey is all about. Advocacy of this disease and helping others when I can. 

We sat for awhile longer after that and then were called back. They came in and did the tracer. Getting a poke in your already sore breast sucks by the way. But I also knew that soon those betraying bitches weren't going to be able to bother me any more so it was fine. [Side note: I actually wrote in my cancer journal that morning that today was the big day and "bye bye boobies, you betraying bitches."] 

There is ZERO modesty in being at the hospital for procedures. Everyone and their cousin will likely see you naked at some point during your stay and despite my body issues, I have no modesty at this point. Just get it done and let's move on. I mention this only because it's so damn ironic how critical and insecure I am of my body but I don't care who sees it in its glory (or unglory as it may be). 

The surgeon came in and did some measurements to be sure we could do the type of closure I was interested in. Turns out there are MANY closure types for going flat. Since I was generous on top, she had to make sure she could achieve the look we were going for. So I laid back and let her mark my chest up which is a very weird experience. But I trust her implicitly and I knew she would not let me down. She felt confident she could do the u-shaped closure based upon her markings. She had me sign all of the consents, made sure I could articulate what we were going to be doing and let us know that her assistant had come down with the 'Rona so she was on her own for surgery. Bless her! Even in hindsight I'm not sure when she sleeps but I am damn grateful the luck of the draw gave me her as my surgeon.

After that they wheeled us down to pre-op. Jeff was getting upset being down there and seeing me in the state I was in. I've often bitched that he isn't emotional enough and I needed him to FEEL and show those feelings as more than anger. Well, I cannot say that anymore. I'm sure it bothered him seeing me like that and brought of memories of his mom for him (she passed away when he was 20 from complications of Lupus). I did the best I could to distract him with talking about our summer road trip and the fun things we could do next summer once I'm all better. Not having reconstructive surgery also frees up time and money so we don't have to deal with recovery again. He said I made him feel better and I was glad. Even when I'm literally down, I want to take care of other people. It's in my nature, I guess.

The anesthesiologist came in and talked to me about the nerve block I'd be getting. Signed more consents. They had Jeff go to a waiting area which I'm sure he was grateful for because he didn't want to watch that. I remember telling the doctor that once when I was having a procedure, the nurse said "here comes your joy juice" and he said he'd never heard it called that but liked it and would use it from now on. As they were moving the ultrasound machine in, I felt some coldness going in through the IV and asked him if that was my joy juice and he laughed and said yes. I don't remember anything about the actual nerve block because apparently I was asleep for it. (Going into surgery later, the surgeon asked me how the nerve block had gone and I said "I think I slept through it" and she said "that's perfect!")

I do remember hearing myself snore a little. Waking up to find Jeff back by my side. He held my hand for awhile. We talked some more but I don't remember what about. Truthfully, it might have been during this time that we talked about our fun road trip and how much we enjoyed spending that time together. Some of those memories are fuzzy and get mixed up.

He kissed me and said he'd see me later and they wheeled me into the operating room. We got me moved over to the operating table and they had me confirm my name, birthdate and why I was there. I remember them putting the oxygen mask on and someone telling me to take deep breaths, that they would see me in awhile and would take good care of me.

Next thing I know, I'm in post op chatting away to the nurse like I hadn't just had a huge surgery. I find this amusing because it took me FOREVER to come out of my fug after my gastric sleeve. Here it was like I'd fallen asleep, woken up and was like "so as I was saying..." 😀 The surgery took a long time since the doctor didn't have her assistant. I recalled her saying it was like 9:30 pm or something. They had decided to just keep me overnight so that Jeff could go home and get some rest and I could be monitored.

Poor Jeff. I only know this part because of what he told me, but he had waited all day long in the waiting area. They did keep him updated via texts and at one point a nurse had come out and let him know that I was doing great and handling the surgery well. But as the hour grew later, that waiting room emptied out and even the nurses at the desk were scheduled to go off shift. When the surgeon came to speak to him after she was done, she had taken him to a private room to chat and when they came back out all of the lights in the waiting room had been turned off. Since we had used valet parking and they were now closed, he had to find a security guard to take him to the parking area to find my car so he could get home. Not going to lie, a selfish part of me was upset that he didn't get to see me after surgery but I also understood that his day must have been terrible. I cannot imagine just sitting and waiting and wondering. Poor guy. He did tell me that the surgeon told him when they moved me back over to the hospital bed, in my sleep, I through my arms back over my head and scared the shit out of all of them. They were worried that I might have pulled stitches but thankfully it was just a weird reflex and everything was fine.

They put me in the maternity ward because it was the only place they had a room available since they weren't expecting to keep me overnight. The nurses were amazing. Since I hadn't eaten at all, the nurse got me some high protein yogurt and helped me settle in to try to rest. The nurse assistant came and took blood pressure measurements. At one point they were concerned because the pressure was quite low for seemingly no reason but they just kept an eye on it and I ended up fine. (Good thing I ended up staying the night!)

At 7 am, the surgeon came to see me before going to her day at the clinic. She is very thorough and draws a lot of pictures which a visual person like myself really appreciates. She walked me through what had been done, how long it had taken and that she didn't have to make an extra incision into my armpit. At least my understanding is since she didn't need to make an extra incision to get the affected lymph node out for dissection, my risk of developing lymphedema is minimal if not non-existent. Which is a really good thing.

I was able to order myself some yummy breakfast and call Jeff to let him know that as long as I could keep the food down, we could be discharged that morning. I think he got to the hospital around 9 am. I was eating my breakfast (their breakfast potatoes were delicious for the record). The nurse came and taught us how to strips the drain tubes, take care of the incisional areas and sent us on our way.

Recovery at home has been good so far. Because I have a history of bariatric surgery, hydration is a huge deal and if I don't eat, it can cause issues too. This morning (Saturday), I had some issues with lightheadedness and feeling like I might pass out but last night was also the first time since we got home that I slept almost all night (from around 9:30pm to 4 am and then from about 4:30 to about 8:30 am) and had no water or food really during that time. I'm sure that's what caused it but we're keeping an eye on it.

I am not an easy patient and do not like feeling like I can't do things on my own, but I'm handling it the best that I can. Every day is a new day and I have a new opportunity to be grateful for the support I have and knowing I am blessed with the people who are loving me and helping me.