By the time this is posted, I will be in the middle of my double mastectomy surgery. Demo day is here. It's finally that time to get this cancer out. Thanks to chemotherapy, my tumor and the axillary lymph node with cancer cells have shrunk (yes, making all the chemo misery worth it.) Unfortunately, the cancerous mass is not small enough for my surgeon to save any breast tissue. I'm okay with that. With three children and the chapter to add more offspring closed, these breasts have served their purpose. I have come to terms with the fact that I'll need to let that physical part of me go. I wonder how I'll feel when I wake up in the post-anesthesia care unit (PACU)? Probably sad. Maybe the post-surgical pain will temporarily outweigh my grief. Eventually, I'll get to the point of mourning the loss of my "old body." That's expected. I'll be bald and boobless. My current perspective is practical; "Get the cancerous tumor out please and make the scars heal nicely."
I'm most nervous about the moments leading up to the actual surgery. Up until they inject that magic juice into my IV that will knock me out, I'll be anxious. Due to COVID-19 precautions, I can have no one with me during the duration of my hospital admission. I will be dropped off at the front of the surgery center by my husband. We will say our early morning goodbyes, and off I'll go. I won't see him again until I'm discharged from the hospital on postoperative day #1. Other than my surgeon(s), there will be new and unfamiliar faces poking and prodding me in preparation for the surgery start time, caring for me in the PACU and the medical-surgical floor for the remainder of my stay. I know they will be kind, swift, and competent in their care for me, but I also know I'll be longing for my husband's hand and presence for reassurance. It sucks to have cancer during these COVID-19 times. It'll be lonely and scary without him by my side.
The day before surgery, I will have a procedure in nuclear medicine where they will inject a radioactive (?) dye into my right breast (ouch.) The "lymph node mapping" is done so that my doctor will be able to quickly identify the sentinel lymph nodes during surgery. Sentinel lymph nodes are the first lymph nodes that the tumor drains into. My prayer is that not too many lymph nodes are found to have residual cancer cells because they will have to be removed. The more lymph nodes removed, the more chances I'll experience the life long complication of lymphedema (swelling) in my dominant working arm. I plan on working for a long time. I want the normal functioning of my right arm. So say a prayer for me, will you? I'm praying and visualizing that less than 7 are involved.
My surgery will take anywhere between 3 1/2-5 hours, depending on what they see when my surgeon opens me up. My surgery will include a mastectomy on my affected cancer side (right), the removal of any involved axillary lymph nodes, and a mastectomy of the contralateral (left) breast. Although there is no confirmed cancer in my left, I have chosen to prophylactically remove the tissue as well. During the second half of the operation, my plastic surgeon will take over and lay the foundation for her reconstruction work next year. She will suture up my incision nicely and, I'll be bandaged wrapped around and across my chest. Because of the extensive incisions into my tissue and possibly chest muscles, I will temporarily have a limited range of motion in both arms after surgery. I'll also have at least two drain tubes with collection bulbs coming out of my incision areas. These drains will clear fluid from the surgery area. I'm guessing because of the limited movement of my arms, and the drains, it will be difficult moving around and doing my usual "activities of daily living." I will need help with even the most simple tasks like getting in and out of bed, getting dressed and undressed, bathing, etc. Again, I'll have to humble myself and receive all the help I can get. I've had lots of practice with this during my six months of chemo, but it still doesn't get any easier.
My sister Jaimee will be with us during the early parts of my recovery. She knows how to run my house even better than me, and that gives me comfort. My other sister Jazelle, and both my parents and in-laws live a short drive away. With Edwin unable to take any time off from work and the teens starting distance learning, it has been a blessing to have such a big extended family around to make sure everything runs smoothly for my family and recovery. They love Edwin and the kids. They are generous with their times and resources, which gives me such ease going into this big surgery and challenging recovery period.
My dear friends, family, and followers, I'm taking a break from my blogging for a while. I'll use the time away to recover, heal, and reflect. Thank you again for your continued prayers and encouragement. Much love to you all-Jaide