The first three weeks of recovering from back-to-back surgeries were tough. It was more painful and more emotionally draining than I had ever imagined. Coming to terms with the fact that things didn't go as planned took a toll on me as soon as I returned home after my seven night hospital stay. Unwrapping the bandages, seeing my new collection of scars, and dragging around 5 tube drains on my body for over two weeks was a daily reminder of the Frankenstein-ish insane things my body went through. I sobbed like a baby to the first friend brave enough to visit the wreck that I was (thank you and sorry, Elaine.)
My sister Jaimee came down from the Pacific Northwest to be my support during those early weeks. Once we figured out the timing of my pain medications to coordinate with the daily activities of living (aka getting out of bed, changing, etc.), Jaimee and I spent a lot of time just "chillin." With my heat pack over my stiff shoulders, fuzzy socks on my feet, entire body wrapped in a blanket on the couch-we binged-watched dramas and went down the Youtube rabbit hole of K pop boy bands. It was bliss.
The only complication I had was that my voice was never the same after the first surgery (failed Diep flap.) It was hoarse, and by mid-day, I could barely talk. No pain. Just a strained/fatigue feeling. This terrified me more than anything, as I realized how difficult it was to not being able to communicate with my family. For a while, I walked around with a dry erase board or notepad. Then one day, I busted out with one of those battery-operated Karaoke mics to make a loud point to my kids (which was kind of fun and ridiculous at the same time.) I went to see a specialist, and with a camera that went up to my nose and down my throat (it actually wasn't that bad), I was told that I had left vocal cord paresis. Whaaat?! My left vocal cord was not moving. It was likely due to the prolonged intubation during surgery. The breathing tube that was pressing on that spot could have caused the cord to paralyze. I was told that it could be permanent, or things could heal over time. He then sent me to a voice specialist for "voice physical therapy." Either way, it was another devastation that hit me hard. How would I be able to communicate? How could I "mom" or do my job without a voice? How sad would my life be if I couldn't hum or sing?
Just as my surgeon said, things turned the corner by week four. Physically, I could do more. I was no longer taking my pain medicines. All the drains were out. The gazillion surgical scars and exit scars from the drains were healing well. My voice therapy was helping to retrain my vocal cords. A second look down my throat by the specialist showed that my left vocal cord was lazily moving (I'll take that), which was reassuring to everyone. The answered prayer meant I was on the road to finding my voice again.
I'm now seven weeks post-surgery. I've been cleared by my surgeon, and next week, I return to work! I am most looking forward to getting back into the routine of things and putting all this behind me. I know there will come a time when I am faced with revisiting this whole experience. I'm okay with that because I have survived so much. I'm thriving not because I am strong but because I have the best tribe on my side. What has gotten me through a lot of it is not only my faith walk but remaining connected to people. The beautiful relationships that sprouted and deepened during the last two years became my encouragement and support. Through laughter, deep talks, shared interest, and all the celebrations, big and small, I was given a daily dose of sunshine. This hope keeps me trekking along despite it all. Thank you to my husband, family, and friends. It's good to be back!