This wasn't supposed to happen. My first blog entry six months after getting back into the work world, "post-cancer treatment" was going to be something positive. I had hoped I would say something like, "life goes on…adjusting to my new normal…somehow thriving." I had an unfinished draft that I was ready to finish. Blahblahblah. Then last week happened.
After an urgent care visit for a severe headache and spine pain, an overnight hospital stay, another urgent care visit for fever and right chest pain, I was admitted to the hospital. My right tissue expander decided to blossom a nasty infection a whole ten months after it was first placed underneath my chest muscles and just twelve weeks shy of my post-double mastectomy reconstruction surgery. It sucked.
I'll spare you the details. In short, I ended up having surgery to remove the tissue expander. When my surgeon sliced through the thin skin holding the expander, it was swimming in a cesspool of bacteria. The port attached that was used to fill the expander was drenching in pus. Gross. That explained the fever. That explained the fiery pain in my right chest. That explained the intermittent angry muscle spasms that afflicted my right chest, shoulder, neck, and head. That explained the swelling in my hand and the ache in my right arm the week before. Ah yes, and the red streaks across my chest that they discovered on examination in the urgent care. It all came together. I was glad it was out. I wanted it out. When the infectious disease doctor wanted to give me another twelve hours (for a full 72 hours) of IV antibiotics to see "if I'd turn the corner," I said, "No, let's get it out. Now." Within 48 hours of my hospital stay, my plastic surgeon got the ball moving, and they took me to the operating room. As soon as it was out and I woke up in the post-anesthesia care unit, EVERYTHING felt better. No pain. No fever. No chills. No blinding headache. I was a new person.
My surgeon was able to keep the left tissue expander in place. Leaving the expander in gives me more options for reconstruction for that particular side. However, due to the infection on my right (the cancer side), my options are now limited. My surgeon had to remove all the extra skin that remained after the expander was removed, and I am now left "flat" with a gnarly bunched-up scar. I was shocked when I dared myself to look at it for the first time. Sigh. It is what it is. My surgeon said, "It's temporary." It'll get fixed during reconstruction. It hurts to look at it.
How do I feel? Honestly, right now, I'm mostly sad and mad. This incident was just a big reminder that my insides aren't the same post-cancer. I feel sad when I look at my new scar. The radiation hyperpigmentation is still there. The redness from the infection though subsiding, adds to just how pitiful it all looks. I'm carved out and lopsided. I can literally see my heart beating because there is no substance to what is left on my right chest. I feel unbalanced and self-conscious.
I'm mad that my body can't fight normal bacteria like everyone else. I'm mad that the medications I need to take that keep my cancer from recurring also put me at risk for things like this. Like WTH? I may not die from cancer, but an infection might kill me? Ridiculous.
I'm mad that I was "so close" to reconstruction and "being done "..." that I was on this really good streak in life," and then this $#it happens. Wahhh!
Hard turn. A change in perspective.
As I hold my tears back, I take a deep breath in, deep breath out.
Reset.
Let me try to be positive.
After a five-day stay in the hospital, I left with no headache, one less nasty expander, and one less infection. Yay? I am on the mend again after my 4th surgery in ten months. I'm severely anemic, and my blood counts are struggling, but they are now starting to trend in the right direction. This is all good, yes?
At the advisement of my oncologist, I've paused my Verzenio tablets (the one that prevents cancer recurrence but also negatively affects my immune system.) I'm happy not to take it. I'm no quitter, but after four months and a dose reduction, I'm so glad not to have to deal with those side effects. I've had nothing but trouble being on Verzenio. Good riddance.
My infectious disease doctors want me to continue oral antibiotics for another two weeks (3 weeks total.) The bacterial infection that colonized the area of my expander is a common staph bacteria. Likely something I just picked up and something most people (with typical immune systems) can clear out themselves. I'm thankful the infection wasn't resistant to antibiotic treatment. The cure was the removal of the infected source (expander) and antibiotics, and it worked.
This post-surgical pain this time around isn't too bad. Compared to the double mastectomy, axillary lymph node dissection, and hysterectomy-oophorectomy, the pain I had with the expander infection was 100 x worst, so I can't complain. Even the drain that I was attached to wasn't too annoying. They were able to remove it yesterday, and I didn't faint when she slowly drew out the nearly two feet of tubing from my chest. I feel free! I was finally able to take a full-body shower.
With all the diagnostic and screening tests done during my hospital stay, I also left the hospital knowing that I don't have breast cancer recurrence (metastasis) in my brain, spine, chest, and pelvis (at least not detected by CT scan.) The lumbar puncture to draw out cerebrospinal fluid came back negative for meningitis. The terrible headache that initially brought me into urgent care was a big concern given my history of cancer and no history of migraines. I got the full workup. The results were reassuring.
My ordeal should not overshadow all these promising findings. As I continue to heal, I will cling to any good news. Thank you for your good wishes, prayers, and messages. As always, it brought some light into what was another dark moment I had to pass through. Thank you.-J