Whisper of concern

*Cancer*

I was in the break room the other day and a woman who works in a different department but I see around in the break room and bathroom approaches me. She looks at me, smiles and asks, "can I ask you a personal question?"

Me: Sure. 

Co-worker:  Is it [in loud stage whisper] cancer or alopecia?

Me: Stunned blank stare. Awkward silence.

Me: Cancer.

Co-worker: What kind of [whisper] cancer do you have?

Me: Ummm, breast. 

Co-worker: Well, good luck to you.

Where is the puking receptacle?

The night in the hospital was not a big deal. The only thing I found odd was that they put compression socks on me that are hooked up to this machine so they inflate and deflate all night. And every time I had to go to the bathroom, they had to come and unhook me from the socks. It makes sleep difficult but no blood clots is a good thing.

I had a catheter during surgery that they took out after I came to. Again, no one told me about this. I kept asking to go pee but they told me I didn't really have to go, it was just the catheter. Well, why wouldn't they let me try to go before they took it out then? Granted, these were thoughts I was having when I was high as a kite.

I was so thirsty when I got to my room, I chugged whatever they'd give me. And for whatever reason, in addition to water, I got cranberry juice. It took me forever to actually be able to go to the bathroom. I think I fell asleep sitting on the toilet a few times (super glamorous). The weird thing is that I puked. (This is my third surgery and the first time I puked. And with the other ones, I drank Diet Coke when I woke up.) And it was like no one was prepared for this at all. I was laying in bed and I asked my Mom and Seth to get me something to puke in and there was nothing. The feeling sort of passed and then I got up to use the bathroom and then I threw up in that garbage can in the bathroom that weighed like 15 pounds. (Think sitting on toilet, garbage can in lap.) Thank god I do CrossFit. But I still couldn't pee.

Later in the middle of the night, I was trying to pee again and I told the nurse that it made me nervous that she kept checking on me while I was trying to pee. So she left the room for a while. And I finally peed (!!!!!) and then stood up and puked. And then I puked again but the nurse was gone (because I asked her to leave), so then I started sobbing and saying "help, help, help" because I wanted to sit down because I thought I was going to pass out but I couldn't lift the garbage can to bring with me to my bed. What happened to those little plastic trays? I swear I played with my Mom's from her gallbladder surgery. The nurse came back and we got things under control. She was very excited that I had peed.

My initial reaction after surgery was that it was so much easier than chemo; that it was not a big deal. Also, there seemed to be way more of my boob left than I was expecting that didn't seem shocking either. I remember thinking, wow, this isn't a big deal at all. I am made of steel. I felt really good and actually happy. I wasn't even mad about the drain. More on that later.

(Hope that second picture below isn't too much for you, dear reader.)

None of this feeling of invincibility would last, however. 

The Big Day

Wednesday, March 22 ... surgery day was finally here. I had to keep reminding myself to not eat or drink anything when I woke up. I was super thirsty. I did wake up at 11:30 pm the night before and take one last sip of water. I took what would be my last shower for a few weeks, I packed up my overnight bag and then we headed to Newport Beach.

My surgery was at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach, which has to be one of the more beautiful locations for a hospital. (More on that later.) I checked in at the main registration desk at 8 am and then checked in at the second registration desk at 8:10 and then got to chill in my very first waiting room of the day.

The first things that they do to mastectomy/lumpectomy patients on the day of surgery is something called wiring and marking. I decided to not read up on these things as I heard that they hurt a lot. A friend told me that the wiring hurt so much she passed out. When they do the biopsy, they inject markers so that they know where they took the tissue samples. With wiring, they stick a thin piece of wire through the tissue where the marker is located. I only had to do the one in my lymph node since they were going to cut off my entire boob. They shot me full of lidocaine so the wiring was not all that painful. The shot of lidocaine is not super pleasant but not bad. And then I just had a piece of wire sticking out of my armpit that they later taped down so I wouldn't stab myself. They warned me that the marking would be more painful. This procedure is where they inject your breast with blue dye so that they can see how it moves from your breast to your lymph nodes. The idea is that this is how the cancer would travel, too. It hurt but it only lasted about 20 seconds per shot (2 shots) and I just said "ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch" while they did it. This made it easier to get through. On the scale of things that I say, "ouch" is pretty tame.

The doctor who did the wiring and marking said that he saw my MRIs and he said that I had the most miraculous reaction to chemo that he had ever seen. That made me feel really happy.

And then I had to have a mammogram. I had no idea about this part. I guess they had to make sure that the wiring and everything was done right. I have no idea. Another uncomfortable procedure but it was over pretty quickly. But just imagine for a minute having a mammogram with a wire sticking out of your arm pit as a tech tries to get your breast smashed into the machine at just the right angle.

After that they took me upstairs to a pre-op floor/room. They kept insisting that Seth and my Mom couldn't come and sit with me so I went rogue and took off and went to the waiting room in that lovely green gown that you see below. I guess I wasn't supposed to do that ...

Here I am waiting for something to happen.

The pre-op people are very nice but have to ask about bowel movements more than I think is healthy. Also, you have to prove that you are not pregnant so good luck peeing when you haven't had anything to drink in 12+ hours. I spoke with my surgeon and then the anesthesiologist and then we were ready to get it done. 

Below is after I got the initial "relaxer" (or, as the anesthesiologist called it, the margarita). I felt as high as I look. And then I was out. 

I came out of surgery in a little pain, they gave me that device where you hit the button and morphine comes out every 10 minutes and then they wheeled me to my room. Oh, but not before I begged for every ice chip they would give me.

This was the view out of my window. Not kidding. (Yes, that's the ocean.)