Drains are gone, but no results yet

First the good news.

The yucky drains are out now! Today at 10 am my surgeon yanked them out of my body. Yes, yanked. She pulled like she was trying to start a lawnmower. One swift fast motion. It was gross.

I was scared. I asked her 'do I breath in or out while you do this?'

"Sure." - that was her answer.

Now I know she's really not listening to me.

But it's too late, she pulls and I have time to hold my breath. The first drain comes out easy, with no pain at all, just a weird slushy sensation. I breathe out. That was not bad at all. I can do this.

She goes for the next one. Holy crap. That one hurt. A lot.

I can't do this.

The clear tube was outside of my body, the white tube is the piece they pulled out of me.

I had 2 drains on each side collecting lymphatic fluid for me after the operation. I guess that is fluid in your armpit area that normally just flows through, but after an operation can build up, so they stick these drains in to collect it. Here is what they look like. The white part of the tube is inside you still collecting fluid and draining it into the grenade looking thingy at the bottom. When they yanked it out today I realized for the first time just how much of the tubing was still left in me.

So gross.

Glad to be done with that.

Now the bad news.

No pathology report yet. It's not ready yet. So disappointing.

I was really hoping I'd finally find out my results today. Now I gotta wait til next week. Oh, and wait, my surgeon is going on vacation this week coming up so I will be getting my results from my family doctor - who will not be able to EXPLAIN THEM to me.

It just gets better and better.

I've been doing a lot of reading on this on my own anyway, so I think I'll

be able to understand it. I hope so anyway. I only want to know three things:

1. Was it in the lymph nodes?

2. Were the margins clear of the tissue they removed?

3. What stage is it at?

As soon as I find out I will let you

guys know.

In the meantime, I'm spending a lot of time showering and laying down.

You know, the finer things in life.

REALITY CHECK BELOW

This is what I look like after the stitches and drains were removed.

All there is left are scars.

Visible and invisible.

Don't try this at home

Okay so I can't bathe until the drains are out. Yuck. But my kind Bradley has been giving me a sponge bath every day to make sure I don't get smelly. They take forever, but at least I'm clean.

The only thing we haven't touched was the hair. The surgeon was very clear about staying dry and not getting the incisions wet. We figured I could go a week without washing my hair. But, umm...when you sleep in a recliner and lay on your back all day, your hair does not want to wait a week to get taken care of. I started looking like a homeless person.

So I asked around. Not one, not two, but several people suggested that I try a dry shampoo.

It's what you spray in your hair between washes, if your hair gets greasy. You spray it on, and comb it out. Voila, beautiful hair.

Sounds easy. I talked to my wonderful soon to be mother in law about it. She kindly agreed to pick some up for me today on her way to visit me. Sweet.

Model hair, here I come!

She came, she brought it over and we had a lovely visit. Once she left Brad and I got to work. We read the instructions on the bottle carefully. Okay, this is not rocket science. Spray, then comb.

I covered my face with a towel so I wouldn't inhale the aerosol spray and Brad went to town spraying - until he was done. Then he took a step back, and laughed. Laughed.

That was not the right response. I look puzzled. "What? You need to comb it out first." He goes to the bathroom and hands me a mirror - still laughing. I take a look. Oh shit. I look like grandma. It turned my hair grey. All of it. So, not only do I have greasy hair, it's now grey to boot. Awesome. I laugh too. We both laugh so hard that we cry and my stitches hurt.

Then we open the windows to let the aerosol spray out - it's all I can smell.

We need a plan B.

So, we opt for the 'me-kneeling-on-the-floor-by-the-bathtub-bending-over' option. Brad throws a bunch of towels on me to keep the water from getting in. We begin. 5 minutes and it's over. He does a great job. When he's done he proceeds to wrap my hair in a towel turban style - that part he didn't do so great (but he's a boy after all!) All in all, my hair is washed. We proceed to dry it and brush it - team effort - and when it's all done, I look like my old self again.

I have not laughed this hard in a long time. In fact, neither of us have. I love that even with drains hanging out, and stitches all across my chest, my Bradley and I can enjoy each other like any other ordinary day. In fact, he ordered us some wonderful take out and later, we may enjoy a walk after dinner... even if it is just from the living room to the kitchen and back again.

Recovering

The best thing about laying in a recliner all day is that I get to be waited on hand and foot. Anything I need, Brad is more than willing to bring me. I really could get used to this.

The worst thing about laying in a recliner all day is that I hate it. I can't sit down in it without help, I can't get up without help. I can't turn or move, I have to sleep in the same position all night and my butt gets sore from laying on it the same way.

It's very humbling to be this useless. This is the first time in my adult life that I am so dependent on another person.

Last night was the first night that I didn't take my medicine through the night. I went 10 hours without pain killers. That's quite an accomplishment for me. I used to take them every 4 hours.

Really looking forward to getting the drains out. I wonder what that will feel like? I hate feeling them inside me as I move or breathe. They don't hurt, but they are there. I can feel them.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of getting a little bell to have at my recliner side. I think it would go nicely in beckoning Brad.

Part Two - done

We arrived at the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Just over 2 hours. We checked in, we went upstairs to the third floor where I was given a hospital gown, and fetching green stockings. Then we were asked to wait in the waiting room until it was our turn.

There was a teenager there already, waiting for her surgery. As I look closely I notice she has a patch of 'magic cream' on the top of her hand. It's Emla cream, a topical anesthetic. So that the IV won't hurt going in. It's brilliant. I get up and find the nurse. I request my own 'magic cream' and she tells me that it's for children only. "But some adults can be babies too" I counter. She gives me a heavy sigh and a disapproving look. But she gets it for me anyway.

Score.

By the time I go into the OR everything has gone so fast I hardly remember the details. The anesthesiologist tried to make a joke while I was lying on the table about taking out my gallbladder. That's the last I remember until I woke up.

Something must have gone wrong during the recovery, because I was in the recovery room for over 6 hours. Poor Brad was beside himself with worry. I had an allergic reaction to the morphine so I was hallucinating, dizzy, couldn't see straight and (according to Brad) I kept talking about the 'big black dog'. I don't really remember this but my nurses all confirmed it.

Eventually at 9:30 pm I got moved from recovery to my room. I hear there were quite a few people who waited at the hospital for me to get out of recovery and then were asked to leave because visiting hours ended at 8pm. They left without getting to see me, and I bet that sucked waiting so long. All I can say is, blame it on the big black dog.

The surgery went well, recovery is sucky. I stayed in the hospital 2 nights, although I was ready to leave by the second day. I was so hungry and all they kept feeding me was beef broth and jello. At some point I had to just get Brad to go out and get 'real food' so much to my nurses (and room-mate's) dismay, I enjoyed pancakes, chicken wings and sushi during my stay there.

Kids came to visit me the next day

Eating 'real food' courtesy of my Bradley

I declined their tylenol 3 offer, and instead am resting somewhat comfortably with extra strength tylenol. So far so good.

I have 2 drains sticking out of me right now, and there is lymph fluid coming out of those that Brad needs to change every day. They are uncomfortable to say the least, and I can feel them inside of me. In a few days, hopefully by next wednesday, they may be removed. I can't wait. Right now no position is comfortable. I can't sit. I can't stand. I can't lay down. I'm a big grumpy pain in the butt while I pace back and forth from the living room to the kitchen.

My new and improved chest - cancer free!

My place is inundated with flowers. They have been coming from far and wide, across the country. Thank you. I am so overwhelmed by your kindness. I even got a big bouquet from my naturopaths office. (that just shows how much money I spent there in the past, eh?)

Our voicemail was full of messages from well wishers. We are both emotionally drained, but so grateful for the friends and family who have rallied around us.

Oh, you know what's really great? There was a little beauty mark that Brad was kinda sad to see go. Much to our surprise, when we changed the bandages we saw that Brad's beauty mark still remained. So amidst all this chaos, a little ray of sunshine!

Part One - done

I know, I know. You can't believe I'm posting this morning. I have a

bout half an hour until I have to be at the local hospital so I thought I might as well be doing this.

We woke up at 5:30 am and just enjoyed laying there together for a minute knowing it would be the last time we would be able to for a while (I'll be sleeping in a recliner for the next week or so after the surgery because of all the tubes and drains that will be attached to me).

We were up and out the door by 6 am, and as usual, we arrived at our appointment a little early. The doors didn't open til 7 am so all we could do was wait.

At 7 am we realize we should have gone to ' patient registration' first, so now we are scrambling to get it all done.

Are you picturing us running through the hospital?

Did I mention wearing my pijamas and my bathrobe?

Waiting before the procedure, all grumpy and scared.

Anyway, we finally get it all done, and we are settled in a room. Brad comes in with me, but he has to sit waaaay over there. So, no hand holding. Damn. The nurse was nice. She was trying to convince me that this particular procedure would hurt less than the biopsy, but I wasn't convinced. She described it as a bee sting.

Then she proceeds to put a needle into my nipple. That part was actually ok. Didn't hurt. Then she pulls it out. "Oops, wrong size." she says. Are you kidding me? So, she goes and gets a smaller needle and says 'let's try this again.' I think awful things about her in my head, and then I lay back down. The poking really is painless. But then comes the sting. Holy crap. It stung. But I held it together. Brad said he could see my hand clench up into a fist. It was over pretty fast. I could feel the sting spreading into my armpit. What a weird sensation, lasted about a minute.

"See, just like a bee sting" she smiles at me.

A bee on crack, that's what I think.

After the procedure, very relieved.

Next we wait for an hour, quite uneventful really. Then we go to my favorite part of the whole morning. They stick me in some sort of scanning machine that comes really close to my face and take all sorts of images. I need to hold still. No problem. The quiet murmur of the machine and the pillows they provided me with actually almost put me to sleep. If it hadn't been for Brad snapping pictures, I may just have.

I must have been there during the technician's break time because at some point she excuses herself and tells us that "Mark" will take over. Really? You need coffee that bad that you can't let me finish my scan? Apparently so.

We get our pictures in a little envelope when it's all over and we are speedy gonzales all the way back into town. We earned ourselves an extra half hour before we gotta check in to the next hospital for party two.

We came home, let the dog out, Brad had breakfast and I am blogging.

All this and it's not even 10 am.

Betcha you feel like a slacker now...

T minus one day

I am prepping for my surgery day tomorrow. That means I'm eating everything in sight. I have already eaten cereal, toast, two hot dogs and all the fruit that was covered in chocolate from yesterday's fruit basket.

I'll leave the other fruit for my Bradley so he knows that I care.

I am not sure how to describe today. I feel as if it's the marking of some important day. I walk around with an air of secrecy, as if I know something that the rest of the world doesn't. I went to the bank, the grocery store and Zellers to buy some pj's that button up because I was gently reminded yesterday that I would not be able to lift up my arms for a while. D'oh.

All the while I'm there, I look at others and think "do they know?" Of course they don't. I probably appear slightly paranoid to anyone who looks at me today.

A few minutes ago I received a reminder call from the hospital about my apt tomorrow.

As if I'd forget. I should have played it up though, just for fun.

"What surgery? What was this about again?" I wonder how that would have gone over.

Once again, the lady on the phone reminded me that I would need to go to the Radiocative Nuclear Department of the Hospital. So I laughed. Out loud. I thought she'd join me, but she didn't. Clearly, this is not funny.

I did find out that Brad will be able to join me during the needle stabbing though, so I am very excited about that. He will be there to hold my hand, just as he was the first time during the biopsy. I am not sure if it'll be comforting, but I am glad I'll get to squeeze his hand during it.

After all, I should not be the only one in pain. I'm just sayin'.

I will write more when I'm back from the hospital. For now, I'll need to go find more food.

So grateful

Today started pretty lousy. I am still sick, (although slight improvement from yesterday) and I was bummed out.

With only 2 days to go til the surgery, I was hoping I would be out enjoying the sunshine. At the very least I thought I'd get some house cleaning and prepping for thursday done. But, being sick, nothing got done.

Then, around noon, a co-worker calls me. She has gone through breast cancer and a bi lateral mastectomy 4 years ago. She knows exactly what I'm feeling,

as she's been there, done that.

I tell her I'm in my p.j's and laying on the couch. "Get dressed" she says, "I'm coming over and I'm bringing you something". "Oh, and comb your hair, I'll be taking

your picture".

What?!

So, I quickly get changed, look in the mirror and decide to look away. I still look sick. I don't have enough time to jump in the shower, so I comb my hair, put on some

dangly earrings and find something bright to wear. At least I won't look so drab.

Then I wait.

She came by with not one, but TWO beautiful gifts for me from my co-workers. And such a lovely card. It brought tears to my eyes.

I really am blessed that I have people around me who love me and care enough to show it.

My day just got a whole lot better.