Thursday, February 5, 2009
Tomorrow's another day
I'm not entirely sure why I have dreaded writing this new entry. Maybe because I have had a major reprieve and don't want to jinx it by thinking any more about cancer. Or maybe I am just avoiding. Actually, I can't really avoid. I wish I could.
Everything is better than the last time I wrote - I am less fatigued, the pain reveals itself in new layers everyday (a rib's pain hidden by a larger global pain pushes to the front today for the first time) but is somehow manageable even without any pain medication - even Tylenol. I am starting to adjust to the stiffness I feel though I am also challenging it everyday with stretches accompanied by winces. The thing that doesn't seem to be progressing is accepting the now strangeness of my body. I was unprepared for how I would feel looking at my chest - it now looks vaguely prepubescent and as if I had been attacked by a shark. For those of you contemplating your own bilateral I include a photo below. I hope I do not offend anyone, and I know there are plenty of photos on-line for the curious but this is my chest and a few of you have asked me to post the photo - the rest can look away I suppose. I know the impulse.
When I thought of my medical leave I can't tell you how many things I thought i would accomplish in the time off. I am trying to play catch up in an online grad course relevant to my interest in learning communities but this is all I have been able to do. I am less tired but there is something caught in my cogs and nothing wants to move and certainly not without a lot of coaxing. I have been assured that I am doing well, that I am a great and fast healer and I try and impress the surgeon and his nurse every week with my ability to bounce back but it's really more of a ... show. I am once again having a hard time gauging the internal stuff but perhaps the general anesthetic was more general and more anesthetizing than I originally thought.
Going to go to the gym today and just walk the treadmill. Juice,a salad, some homework, a little tv (god I hate myself) and bed. Tomorrow's another day.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Alls well that ends well. But what a trip.
So, from the beginning:
Day 1
go to the hospital at 6am, have already frustrated 2 phlebotomists and the anesthesiologist's nurse because I have thin deep shy veins. Finally, after the woman rapped my hand until there was a black and blue knot someone came in and got the IV in. From there to the doctor who does the sentinel node procedure - the inserting the dye part. Several burning pinches in the areola and under the imaging machine, back to the ...actually, I am realizing there are a few holes in my memory. Next thing I can remember I am in the recovery room determined to be the best patient and the one who gets to leave the soonest. Jennifer the nurse is a gum snapping type who makes the best toast in the world - though toast that is not long for this world. I am out of bed and walking to the bathroom myself after the surgery and after a while I go up to the hospital room where I expect to be one night.
I get a shot of morphine, ambien and antibiotic all at the same time and within an hour of arriving I am vomiting. My blood pressure goes down to 56 over 40 something and they are running around the room scaring the crap out of me. To get my blood pressure up they lower my head which gets me vomiting again. After four hours of vomiting I get these ridiculously painful cramps and know that I am about to start my period... They seem little concerned with this but I am beyond mortified.
Day 2
I didn't stop vomiting for about 12 hours and once I thought I might live the nurse told me I would be going into surgery again because I was clotting and the hard as a marble portion of flesh above the bandages was a result. Manghouri came in before hand and explained I ahd a rare reaction to the anticoagulant they had injected into me. By 10 pm that night I had the 2nd surgery and he explained to my relatives and friends that he had used his power washer to clean me out, replaced the 4 drains and it looked good. The bad news was that I had lost a considerable amount of blood and needed a transfusion. A wonderful nurse Cheryl who was a good mix of come on get up and poor baby.
Day 3
Sleep? No not much. probably all told 3 - 4 hours a day in drowsiness that would come and take me away for 30 minutes at a time. I am staring to realize the gravity of what my body has been through and am letting go of my pre-surgery fantasies that I will be up the following day and driving within 2 or 3 days. I am experiencing fatigue that I cannot accept so I keep trying to get up but rarely make it out of bed. Took most of the day to put two units of blood back.
Day 4
Consider trying to leave, or at least put on a show so the surgeon will ok my leaving. He is agreeable to my leaving but wonders if I could use another day. I concede.
Day 5
I'm out by 1pm
Day 6 through Day 10
Steadily stronger and skipping pain meds but nights are impossible and nausea constant until the 9th day. Done with the antibiotics, have to take iron pills for the foreseeable future and starting to tolerate the vitamins my generous brother-in-law bought a year's supply of for me.
OK, so what they found:
I am an extremely lucky woman. They found two satellite tumors near the original one but there is no evidence that there was any migration into my lymph nodes! more later...I am tired.
So, from the beginning:
Day 1
go to the hospital at 6am, have already frustrated 2 phlebotomists and the anesthesiologist's nurse because I have thin deep shy veins. Finally, after the woman rapped my hand until there was a black and blue knot someone came in and got the IV in. From there to the doctor who does the sentinel node procedure - the inserting the dye part. Several burning pinches in the areola and under the imaging machine, back to the ...actually, I am realizing there are a few holes in my memory. Next thing I can remember I am in the recovery room determined to be the best patient and the one who gets to leave the soonest. Jennifer the nurse is a gum snapping type who makes the best toast in the world - though toast that is not long for this world. I am out of bed and walking to the bathroom myself after the surgery and after a while I go up to the hospital room where I expect to be one night.
I get a shot of morphine, ambien and antibiotic all at the same time and within an hour of arriving I am vomiting. My blood pressure goes down to 56 over 40 something and they are running around the room scaring the crap out of me. To get my blood pressure up they lower my head which gets me vomiting again. After four hours of vomiting I get these ridiculously painful cramps and know that I am about to start my period... They seem little concerned with this but I am beyond mortified.
Day 2
I didn't stop vomiting for about 12 hours and once I thought I might live the nurse told me I would be going into surgery again because I was clotting and the hard as a marble portion of flesh above the bandages was a result. Manghouri came in before hand and explained I ahd a rare reaction to the anticoagulant they had injected into me. By 10 pm that night I had the 2nd surgery and he explained to my relatives and friends that he had used his power washer to clean me out, replaced the 4 drains and it looked good. The bad news was that I had lost a considerable amount of blood and needed a transfusion. A wonderful nurse Cheryl who was a good mix of come on get up and poor baby.
Day 3
Sleep? No not much. probably all told 3 - 4 hours a day in drowsiness that would come and take me away for 30 minutes at a time. I am staring to realize the gravity of what my body has been through and am letting go of my pre-surgery fantasies that I will be up the following day and driving within 2 or 3 days. I am experiencing fatigue that I cannot accept so I keep trying to get up but rarely make it out of bed. Took most of the day to put two units of blood back.
Day 4
Consider trying to leave, or at least put on a show so the surgeon will ok my leaving. He is agreeable to my leaving but wonders if I could use another day. I concede.
Day 5
I'm out by 1pm
Day 6 through Day 10
Steadily stronger and skipping pain meds but nights are impossible and nausea constant until the 9th day. Done with the antibiotics, have to take iron pills for the foreseeable future and starting to tolerate the vitamins my generous brother-in-law bought a year's supply of for me.
OK, so what they found:
I am an extremely lucky woman. They found two satellite tumors near the original one but there is no evidence that there was any migration into my lymph nodes! more later...I am tired.
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