Say What You Think

It's been 3 months and 1 week since surgery, and I let the day come and go without so much as a mention here. I see Dr. Spiegel again on Thursday, so I was kind of waiting for that to update, I guess.

But.... hip hip hooray, I'm off of all my restrictions!!! I'll come back soon with a medical update, but for now, I have a little something to say. I feel like this is especially relevant as we head into the holiday season, where sometimes the busyness leads to frustration and short tempers.

I am not going to come here and tell you that I have radically changed the way I live my life in the last year and a half.

Yes, I've pulled closer to God to get me through this. Yes, I've leaned on people more than is my norm. But I've always known God is there for me and relied on him, and the people I'm leaning on have been there for me in other, smaller trials as well, so none of this is radical.

There is something that I try to do, now, that I definitely never did before. I wouldn't say it's radical, but it's definitely life-changing for me, and maybe for someone else, too.

When someone impacts my life in a positive way, I try to let them know.

That's it. 

Whether they're a stranger or a friend, whether it's a big impact or just a little ripple, if I am able, I try to let them know.

The customer service rep I spent an hour on the phone with, but she was helpful and cheerful the whole time? I tell her that her cheerfulness was a pleasure.

The person who let's me out in traffic? He gets a super big wave, and maybe a thumbs up.

Basically, if I have a nice thought about someone, instead of keeping it to myself, I try to tell them.

       You were really brave.

       I know that situation sucked, but you handled it very gracefully.

       Thank you for always ___.

       I am proud of you.

       I love that dress.

       I can tell you love your job.

These words are often reserved for special situations, close friends or family.... But what if we sprinkle them farther and wider in the world? The grocery store cashier, the phone support person, the fellow shopper. Everyone needs a pick-me-up; the world needs more kindness. 

So say what you think.

Breast Reconstruction Awareness Day

Apparently, that is today. BRA Day, ha, ha, someone has a sense of humor.

I feel like I need to warn you that I'm about to talk about breasts, including mine. I mean, this is a blog about surviving breast cancer, so that seems obvious, but still, I'm about to write about boobs, so... You've been warned, ha.

Breast cancer takes and takes and takes. If I wrote about what all has been taken from me, you'd click off the page cuz it would get real whiney. So I won't.

The most obvious thing that breast cancer takes, is your breasts.

Breasts. Boobs. The Girls. Tatas. I'm sure there's a million more names for them. Most of the time, we think of boobs in a sexual sense, but there's so much more to it than that.

These breasts fed two babies.

My chest is where I pull my boys into a hug to comfort them when they've got a BoBo. In fact, every hug I give involves chest-to-chest contact.

Every article of clothing I have assumes that I have a filled-out and symmetrical chest. Well, except my pants, obviously. But you get my point.

I see the girls every day when I get out of the shower. Heck, I even have some little decorative mirrors and one is positioned Just So, so that when I'm shampooing, I can see them then, too. (Poor planning on my part, woops.)

There's no arguing that breasts are an integral part of any woman's life, and not just her intimate life (not that I'm negating the importance of that part, either, because let's get real, it's preeeetty important too!)

Breast cancer strips all of that away. Sometimes, women go flat - whether by choice or by medical necessity. Sometimes, a medical device is placed to give the look (when dressed) of symmetrical feminity - a prosthesis worn in the bra, or an implant. I had a tissue expander for over a year. This is like a breast implant that starts out flat, and they gradually add saline to it to help the skin stretch until it's the right size. For me, this was a temporary measure, a placeholder until my final reconstruction.

Also for me, it was unsightly and asymmetrical when naked, uncomfortable at best, and sometimes painful. And it could have been life threatening: when they removed my expander during reconstruction, they found that it was becoming infected.

So...what is breast reconstruction?

There are a lot of different methods, but the goal is the same: to replace what was taken. To recreate breasts in a way that has as natural of a look and feel - in and out of clothes - as possible.

The method I chose is called DIEP Flap Reconstruction, often referred to as just DIEP. The short story, if you're not familiar, is this: they remove a section of abdominal tissue, being careful to preserve the arteries that supply it. Then, they connect those arteries to the ones in your chest wall, and use about 47 gazillion micro sutures to put that belly tissue where there used to be boobs. The location where your belly button was, no longer exists on your body, so they make a new belly button in what appears to be the correct location for belly buttons: the lower/middle of your belly. Then, they puuuuuuulllll your belly skin closed. In short, it's a day-long craft project for a highly skilled microsurgeon.

There's this misconception out there that reconstruction is a free boob job.

It's not.

A free tummy tuck?

Nope, it's not that, either.

Breast reconstruction is a complete rearranging of your torso. It comes with a strange combination of pain and numbness. It's a bit mind-blowing when there's a place on your body that you know you're touching, but you can't feel it, and it has one of those painful stinging itches that you must scratch right-this-second. Only, when you touch it, you still can't feel your fingers on your own skin, and so you can't comfort it. And this phenomenon is not just in my new breasts, either, but in my abdomen as well. And that numbness may or may not go away - only time will tell.

Breast reconstruction is a hard surgery, with a hard recovery. I believe I was under for 9 hours. I had 2 surgeons, plus at least one PA, operating on me. Then I had another surgery 2 days later, due to complications, and needed 3 pints of blood. Y'all, the average woman only has 9 pints. So I needed a third of my blood to be replaced. I'm feeling great, but I still have another month of lifting restrictions, and I still have days where doing the normal life things just flat wears me out. And honestly, I've had an easy recovery, compared with some ladies I've talked to!

Is my belly flat? Pretty much. Do my new boobs look nice? They will, as we finish this process and the scars fade. Was all of this free? Hell no.

Some people might say, Well if breast reconstruction is so hard, why would you do that to yourself? Why would you elect to put yourself through such an ordeal?

This is not an ordeal. Cancer was The Ordeal. Surgeries and medications and life changes are The Ordeal.

But this, these reconstructed breasts? This, my friends, is the finish line of a marathon, the celebration at the end of a long journey, the morning sun after a nightmare.

I'm not finished, no, but I'm a heck of a lot closer to the finish line than I was.

Keeping It Real

The other day, a friend was asking how things are going, and I remembered that I hadn't updated the blog in a while. Sorry.

So, things are going pretty good. I've been walking upright for about 10 days now. On my first morning upright, I couldn't do it - there just wasn't enough slack in my abdomen to make it all the way up to straight! By lunchtime, I was pretty much straight. But then we went to lunch at this new place. When we walked out, James said, Stand up straight! And I couldn't because I'd used up all my abdominal slack on that burger, ha! But after a few days, I was fully upright, even with a full belly.

I'm back to sleeping in my bed now, hooray! I still have to prop my knees and sleep with an extra pillow under my head, but it's nice to be back in bed. And this evening, James surprised me by putting our room back in order - no more recliner squeezed next to the bed and blocking my nightstand!

I've started using silicone scar therapy sheets. My abdominal scar is angry and red, but I know it'll chill out eventually. My belly button sort of looks like a craft project gone wrong, so maybe with time (and maybe some help in Phase 2) it'll look better.

My belly is way less swollen, so that's nice. I still can't wear regular pants though, but I found some great jeans with an elastic waist, so I feel really normal now.

I have some tingling in my right hand and arm that is a little unnerving (ha, see what I did there? unNERVE-ing? Get it?) But I'm starting physical therapy this week so hopefully that resolves that issue. Otherwise, I see my oncologist in a couple of weeks and I'll get her to figure out the problem.

Last week I walked a couple of days - once around the block, and once I did half a mile on our neighborhood trail. By the end of it, my belly was feeling extra tight, so I ended up walking a little bent over, but it was still so nice to move.

I still have lots of days where I feel suddenly and totally exhausted. If I'm home, I usually sneak a nap, but sometimes that's just not possible. But I also have lots of days where I'm going and doing all day long, and again, it feels so normal. Normal is a good thing!

I'm having some skin issues - idk if it's a rash like I had a couple weeks after surgery, or if it's more of a breakout type thing from my hormone blocker, but hopefully it clears up soon. Otherwise I might make an appointment with my dermatologist and see if he can straighten me out.

I think that's about all that's going on with me. So when I told my friend all that, she said, You always keep such a positive attitude about it all.

And you know what, I do keep a positive attitude. Keep being the key word, there.

The default is not always positive. Sometimes, my first thought when I look in the mirror is revulsion. Sometimes, my first response to a random pain is fear. Sometimes, my first feeling after a setback is defeat. I'm not going to clarify "sometimes" because it varies from rarely to often and back again. But just know that I do have those feelings. But I keep a positive attitude.

Keep. That is the key.

When you clean house and go through toys and clothes and papers, you toss some and you keep some. You make a choice about which things are important enough, good enough, valuable enough to keep. There is this big decluttering movement about only keeping things that bring you Joy, and you pick up each thing and make a split-second decision about it, based on how it makes you feel - keep or toss, keep or toss.

Emotions are the same way. I have all the emotions. The question is, which ones am I going to keep. Which ones improve my life, make things better, build me up and push me forward - those are the ones to keep.

It's all a choice. So I'll continue choosing to keep a positive attitude.

A merry heart does good like a medicine
But a broken spirit dries the bones. Proverbs 17:22

Pinktober

I learned a new word today.

Pinktober (n): the month of October that is flooded with pink in an effort to raise awareness of breast cancer. Also known as Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

It's not Pinktober quite yet, but already I'm having some mixed feelings about the, ah, festivities, so I wanted to share some thoughts.

Pinktober comes with shirts and posters, sports teams in pink socks, and Facebook messages. But mostly, everywhere I look, I see pink ribbons.

(For the love of all things pink, if you send me a FB message asking my bra color to raise bc awareness, I'm deleting you. I'm plenty aware of breast cancer, and if I'm even wearing a bra, it's probably uncomfortable at the moment because I'm still a bit tender from having new boobs built.)

Sorry, I got sidetracked there. Anyway.

This journey of mine is a roller coaster of emotions.

Some days, I see a pink ribbon and want to pump my fist in the air and shout, Man, I kicked breast cancer's ass!

And other days, I see a pink ribbon and want to burn it.

A pink ribbon can be a tribute, a way of honoring how far I've come.

A pink ribbon can be a slap in my face, a reminder of just what all I've been through in the last 18 months.

A pink ribbon can say, Hey, I see you struggling with this journey, but I'm here for you, I'm walking with you.

A pink ribbon can say, Hey, I see what you're walking through, and I don't really feel comfortable actually being there for you, so I'm gonna put on this ribbon and then I'll feel good about myself for being "supportive" of you.

I guess what I'm trying to say is... Think about that pink ribbon when you're putting it on, whether it's on your shirt or on your profile. Don't do it because the cool kids are doing it. Use it as a tool to raise actual awareness.

Breast cancer is a real disease. It affects young women as well as older women. It is a life-altering circumstance that nobody wants to face. And it happens to 1 in 8 women. Check your girls, girls.

One final thought: There is a huge difference between raising awareness of the disease, and raising funds for research. Awareness means you know about the disease: risk factors, warning signs, detection. Pink ribbons do not, by and large, raise much (if any) money for breast cancer research. Most of the products sold around this time are pure marketing gimmicks, with pennies on the dollar going to actual research. Before you buy that crap, please do your research. Don't waste your money and insult my journey with "save the tatas" bracelets or whatever this year's catchy slogan is.

A Little Longer...

Today, I saw the PA at Dr. Speigel's office for a check-up. I'm 5.5 weeks post-op, and here's the scoop.

My abdominal incision that had the little delayed healing spot? That's all better! The whole incision is looking fantastic - definitely not like a month old scar, that's for sure! I still have to walk flexed for 2 more weeks though, because if I stand up now, the scar will stretch and widen, so they want me to wait til 8 weeks post-op before I stand up fully. Or rather, start to stand up - I can already tell it's going to be a slow process.

Also at 8 weeks, I can start sleeping in my bed again, instead of the recliner. That will also be a transition too - one week with 2 pillows behind my head and knees, then a week with one pillow each, and then normal.

Another 8 week change is that I will be able to start using Silagen silicone scar therapy sheets. They're supposed to be amazing.

Pretty soon, I will get set up with the physical therapy group at The Women's Hospital, and that'll be twice a week for 6 weeks. That is for range of motion in my arms. They'll also do some cold laser therapy on some areas of hardness in my breast. The hardness is from the bleeding I had that required the second surgery, if you remember that. I still have some bruising from that episode, and where the bruising is, is hard... It's softening up, but the laser (which doesn't hurt) will help it improve faster.

Another thing they did today was remove the glue (dermabond) covering the breast incisions. On the left side, there are 2 tiny dots of "delayed wound healing" so I've got to use the special dressing I was using on my abdomen, there. It really looks like there were two little scabs that stuck to the glue instead of my body, so hopefully those clear up quickly.

And, that's pretty much all the news for today. I was pretty disappointed to not be cleared to stand up, but I love that she explained why, so I can be patient.

I'm seeing a trend of things taking a little longer than planned at each step in the process. 6 days in the hospital, instead of 4. 8 weeks walking flexed, instead of 4-6. So, I'm kind of starting to prepare myself for the possibility that I might not get to have my Phase 2 surgery before the end of the year.

Phase 2 is a second, planned surgery for symmetry and scar revision - Phase 1 is the big one, and it's meant to be a foundation, not a finished product. Phase 2 is always at least 4 months after Phase 1, longer if needed.

I was really hoping to have it by the end of the year, because all of my medical expenses are covered by at 100% by insurance right now. If it's after 1/1/2020, then we start over and I have to pay a big chunk of the cost. Which is manageable, but obviously if it's avoidable, then that's better! But my priority is the best outcome, and I fully trust my doctor to make that decision when the time comes. I will see her next on 11/21, and she will decide then if we want to keep our pencilled-in date of 12/11, or push it back.

That's what's new with me. If you're following the weather, you may know it's been bad down by us, but we've stayed safe and dry and I think it's about finished. Be praying for others in my area that flooded - some who also flooded during Harvey.

Post-Op #2 Report

Today was my second post-op appointment, and I got a little good news, and a little bad news. I like to end on a high note, so I'll give you the bad news first.

During surgery, they glued some special tape over the abdominal incision to give it some additional support and keep it from pulling open. Fun fact about me: I have really sensitive skin, and sometimes adhesive irritates me. This is one of those times. So they pulled the entire thing off today, which is earlier than they like to, because my skin was just done with that stuff.

They used a bit of adhesive remover to loosen it up, but it still felt about like a bikini wax coming off. So that was fun. Then, it continued to hurt... Because my skin is a little broken down in some spots from the adhesive. It looks like a bunch of small scratches that are just a teensy bit bleedy, and they sting like, well, a bunch of small scratches that are a teensy bit bleedy. Leave it to me to have a major surgery that impacts my entire torso, and the dang bandaids do me in.

I also have a bit of an itchy rash, so that's fun, but some rx cream should clear that right up.

The last bit of bad news is a little more serious, but they assured me it happens all the time and not to worry, just be extra careful. So during the tummy tuck part of the surgery, they're pulling your abdomen back together and there's not enough skin, so it's real tight. Hence the need to walk bent over. Mine is particularly tight, because they were able to use my c-section scar so that the final product is nicer, but it was lower than she usually goes, so the whole thing is a bit tighter. So a possible complication, which I am having, is that it sort of pulls apart a little bit - they call it "delayed wound healing" and she said it's really a very tiny spot and it'll close up just fine. I suspect it's probably complicated by my low platelets, but I didn't ask. So I just have to stay extra bent over, especially since I no longer have the tape on there as a reinforcement. They also gave me a special dressing that will help it heal, without causing the adhesive skin reaction above. And because of all that, I have to wait another week to drive, and I have to go back next week to make sure it's all healing well, instead of in two weeks.

Pause. That all sounds sort of terrible, doesn't it? But really, it's all going to be just fine, and it really is a very small spot. And the skin breakdown is very superficial and will probably clear right up now that the tape is gone. So, deep breath, and stop worrying and thinking doomy gloomy thoughts. I'm rocking this recovery phase!

Now then, how about some good news?

The girls are looking great. The left one is still all sorts of greenish purple from the bleeding (which was from a little clot, doc said), but they're healing so well, and they look pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I no longer have to wear the surgical bra, which is AMAZING because that little thing is unbelievably itchy. Or maybe that's the rash that was so itchy, but I think the bra contributed to it, so same thing. I am now allowed to wear those really comfortable camisole type bras, so that is very exciting.

I can raise my hands overhead and do range of motion exercises. Well, I can't actually raise them that high, but I'm allowed to start trying. Do you know what this means?!?! I can shave my armpits. Hallelujah, God is good, y'all. I can also wear whatever I want now, because I can move my arms around to get into real clothes instead of just button up shirts.

Oh, I nearly forgot! Because of all the issues above, I get to take a week off from The Miniskirt! Which, despite all my complaints, is actually pretty helpful for my sore swelly belly.

So overall, a pretty good appointment. I also enjoyed getting some one on one time with James, because he's been taking me to these weekly appointments. Date Day for the win!

Laugh or Cry, Volume 2

Welcome, friends, to another episode of Laugh or Cry.

The Belly Button Chronicles

Ah, the belly button. The subject of books and songs, the source of life and of giggles.

During my surgery, my belly button had to be relocated, because the location where it has resided the last 34 years is now, ahem, much lower than before. So, it was sort of an arts and crafts project - cut it out, paste it into the new location, ta da!

So as you can imagine, when I first got home, it was a bit gruesome looking. Luke looks over Mom's shoulder with a very puzzled look, and says, What's DAT?!

That's my belly button, buddy.

Why you break yous belly button?

Well, sometimes that happens, buddy, sometimes that happens.

(And in case you are wondering, it has already improved greatly in appearance, although it's still got a ways to go before being recognized as a belly button by a 2 year old.)