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The Bitter and the Sweet

The article I mentioned in the previous post included a full photo shoot with my awesome breast surgeon. She is really terrific and I’m so glad she chose me to help with the article.  The photo shoot was a great experience. Plus, it’s the first time in ages I’ve been photographed with my clothes on and my head in the shot. LOL! 

However, the nipple tattooing was NOT a great experience. I went into it thinking that of it as the final step in a long and arduous experience; closure. It fell far short. The nurse or tattooist or whatever she is had only the slightest idea of what she was doing and I’m left with terrible results. I kept thinking it would look better after a few days, but after a week, I expressed concern with my breast surgeon. She said I was right to be concerned — they didn’t look right and that I should call my plastic surgeon and get an appointment as soon as possible. So, while Joe is very kind and considerate, I’m mortified and even physically uncomfortable. Fortunately, I see my plastic surgeon, Dr. S, next week. He’s such an awesome doc, both in his craft and as a person, so I know he’ll have a solution.

Meanwhile, the boobie drama continues. (sigh)

Clean Up Crew

More cutting and poking today to fix some of the places where the tissue on my body didn’t make it. All is well, just very sore. I’m so lucky to have great doctors and husband. I will elaborate on the procedure when I’m less fuzzy. Feel your boobies today, girls.

Catharsis, Chaos and Contemplation

These three things describe my recent weeks. They have occurred simultaneously and independently throughout and still describe my current state.

My doctor, whom I visited a couple of days before New Years, was pleased with the result of his most recent work. It’s always hard for me to tell because I can’t see beyond the stitches, scars, and swelling.  He can see how it will evolve, though, like any true artist.  Joe, of course, pretends not to see the ugliness and for that, I am so very grateful. The doctor has scheduled an appointment for February to discuss the “clean up” which will involve some fat grafting to my chest, scar scouring (he used a medical term, but I’ve forgotten it), and final mammalia rendering.  I still look like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas. Only now, it’s after Christmas and I am ready to put this all behind us.

For New Years, we went to my small, quiet hometown in Arkansas for my 20 year class reunion. It was wonderful to see so many old friends. Because of Facebook, I have been able to reconnect with many of them — what a blessing. We had a lot of fun catching up. There was a lot of love among us because so many have been through a lot — devastating car accidents, loss of loved ones, marriage, divorce, babies, grandbabies, and so much more. We experienced a lot of emotional “cleanup” ourselves. Additionally, I was able to reconnect with a family I have unofficially adopted to be my surrogate mother and sisters and my estranged blood sister and nieces, as well.  That was harder, because my sister isn’t well and I feel as though I should step into a maternal role with her. I can’t do that — we’re in our late 30s and have our own children. I can be her friend, though. I can share the loss of our family with her, but not for her. I can let her know she’s loved, as I know I’m loved.

I attempted to go back to work on-site this week. Three hours on the road each day and a full day sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a loud, stressful environment proved overwhelming. I haven’t managed stress well at home, much less at a place where I can’t go hide and just cry or meditate through it. It makes me feel so weak that I struggle still. Hormones? Medication? The ongoing discomfort? I don’t know. On the second day, my manager figured out that I wasn’t doing well and he sent me to work from home for the remainder of the week. I am SO grateful, especially since the current cold snap makes everything hurt, even in places I don’t have feeling anymore. My workplace may be a stressful environment, but it employs some compassionate people and they’ve been very good and patient with me.  That makes me want to work harder and better for them.

Speaking of work, though, the incidents of the past year have definitely made me realize that as much as I want to do a good job, I do not want to BE my job. Life is short — it’s so cliché, but life really is short. My family and I have to be my top priority now and always.  No one ever said, on their deathbed, “I wish I’d spent more time at the office.”  I’m working hard, but I’m living harder.

So I’ll leave you with that. I’m finding peace in places and with people I never thought possible.  My family is my greatest gift, my husband is my hero, and my friends have continued to lift me up.  When love is your top priority, you can do anything.

What Was I Thinking?

Joe warned me. He was gentle but he did try to guide me in a different direction. The surgery to construct mamillia (nipples) was Wednesday…two days before Christmas. I didn’t think it would be that big a deal. Just some more plastic surgery magic using scalpels and sutures. Bit more to it than that. I have to wear lots of gauze and no bra, so I am lumpy and unsupported. Very ugly in the blousy area. It’s also more uncomforable than I expected. What was I thinking? Plus, it will be three months before I can get the color tattooed on. I’m glad to be alive, but I’m tired of this.

Further Down the Road

Six weeks later…

I’ve lost 13 pounds so YAY for that. Also, I got the final two drains out two weeks ago. I can’t begin to express how much better it feels not to try to fit those tubes and bulbs around clothing. I still can’t stand jeans longer than an hour, but I’ll get there. Also, I can take a bath!  FABULOUS.

Oh, it was great to discover that I actually went UP in bra size. Yeah — I had enough fat to make those girls into D cups. LOL!  And that’s just fat, no silicone or saline anything. It’s all organic. 🙂  My belly is flat, too, but my butt didn’t shrink one little bit. Go figure.

Dr. St gave me a lecture on trying to do too much yesterday so I stand reprimanded. I periodically get out of the house to get lunch or pick up a prescription. For the most part, though, I’m home-bound.  I get so tired, even when I don’t leave the house. The doc won’t let me go back to work until after Thanksgiving and then, only part-time. Unfortunately, that’s not what our third-party HR group wants to hear. (Please keep us in your thoughts — my job is very important.) Even new moms can get more time than that these days.

It isn’t hard to stay busy — I love to read and I have a million sewing and writing projects started that I need to finish.  Also, I have to get up and move frequently, even though finding that sweet spot between not-to-much and not-to-little is sometimes challenging. It’s easy to overdo it, but if I get too sedentary, it causes other problems. I guess that’s the same for everyone, right? Sadly, it also means that I missed taking Miranda to a Mavs game with tickets she earned at Hoops Camp; I missed my granddaughter’s birthday party; I will be missing Taylor and Beau’s first wrestling meet this weekend; I missed two Halloween parties as well as taking my grandkids trick-or-treating. Most of Christmas comes in the mail this year, as well — do you realize how much shipping prices have gone up? Anyway, my point is that everyone has had to make a lot of sacrifices, not just me and Joe. I’m so grateful for my amazing family and their kindness. I also have a fabulous group of friends. No one goes through this alone. 

This past Saturday, I started having a lot of chest and back pain. It felt like a cracked rib or acute muscle pull. By Monday, I was at Dr. St’s office who ordered immediate x-rays, then to the emergency room According to the x-ray, there was fluid on my lung and they had to make sure it wasn’t a clot.  It wasn’t, but the family was worried anyway. It makes me so sad that I cause so much worry for them.

It turned out to be that my left lung partially collapsed again and then filled with some fluid. That’s what caused the pain. If not treated, it could’ve led to pneumonia, but there was nothing about which to worry — Joe keeps a close eye on me. 🙂 So last night, I was at the emergency room, but I was home the same evening. The yucky part is that I awoke this morning with a red, swollen face and itching all over my upper body. Apparently, I’m allergic to the dye with which I was infused for the CT scan. Benadryl didn’t even touch it! I was red and hideous and itchy.  Joe called all my doctors and ended up taking me to my PCP where I got a shot in the booty with a steroid, plus a prescription for more. I still itch and hope relief comes soon. When I feel like complaining more than this, though, I think of those I’ve known and loved who weren’t as lucky as I.  Also, I look down at my pretty new boobies.

Here We Go…

The big one is scheduled for September 21st at 7am. Insurance is in order. Suddenly, I’m really nervous.

Tired, Ired and a Little Wired

So except for being really tired and my anxiety rising a few notches, all is going well. I probably shouldn’t have gone back to work so quickly after the oophorectomy, but I’m trying to keep things as normal as possible for everyone in my life, including my co-workers. When I have the breast surgery, it will be a different story. I simply will not be able to do those things. I hope my family is prepared. I hope I am!

In a few weeks, it will be six months from the date of my last mammogram.  It occurs to me how much time I’ve spent waiting for pap and mammo results in the last ten years. Now that I amrequired to have mammograms and MRIs every six months instead of annually, I figure I’ll be spending 3/4 of the year waiting for test results. Staggering. That kind of waiting and worrying is hard on everyone, no matter how much you try to suppress it. No one wants to have cancer (I hope) and to try to live life tiptoeing around the possibility is no easy dance.

There’s a saying I used to hear when I was single: You can stay single and hope you find your soul mate or you can get married and hope you don’t. Fortunately, I found and married mine, but the quote is not without merit.

I can opt to keep my replaceable organs and hope I don’t get cancer or I can replace them and not have to worry about it. It’s all chance. Is it worth the pain and trouble? There is no way to know. The ovaries are going to give out anyway and I’ve had my babies, so that’s no great loss. The breasts, however, are a much different story. And I gotta say, I’m more than a little worried with or without the surgery.

I know…I should worry less. But, I’m just not built that way. I try, but my body and mind just won’t let me ignore the millions of worries that tug at me. I’m a mom, a wife, an employee, an orphan, and not independently wealthy…worry happens.

I don’t worry about death. Probably because it is what it is and there’s no avoiding it. But its the junk that causes death that bugs me. Cancer hurts. It’s ugly. It’s invasive. It’s mean and unforgiving.  People don’t have cancer attacks and die within hours. It takes awhile. I know — I’ve watched it. I don’t mind dying, but I don’t want to  be sick.

When I sat down to write this entry, I was having a lot of anxiety about the surgery. It’s going to hurt and be ugly, but I don’t think it will be as ugly as cancer. I’m just ready to be past it all, healing and healthy.

So Far, So Good

Other than the awkward placement of the incisions, things seem to be healing up nicely. I’ve not experienced any of the mind-twisting hell that menopause is supposed to be and for that, I’m very thankful.

Sweet Lucidity

Ahhh, the haze is lifting, slowly and steadily. Last night was probably the worst so far, but after a cool shower and Caramel Machiatto, my head is a bit clearer and the pain is down and bruising is reduced. I’m going to venture a short walk, but otherwise take it easy and try not to nap. Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight. I want to be able to make the trip to UNT on Sunday to move Angel into her new dorm.

So far, so good.